


becoming mere silhouettes

by aizensosuke



Series: a fading silhouette [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Bondage, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Marriage, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Open Marriage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 200,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizensosuke/pseuds/aizensosuke
Summary: aizen sosuke and kuchiki byakuya are something of a power couple in las noches, a bdsm club and dungeon that serves as one of the hottest spots in the city. the two of them have been together longer than anyone can remember, their open marriage allowing them to sate their desires as sexual dominants as well as allowing byakuya to keep his boyfriend and submissive, abarai renji, close at hand.in contrast, aizen dabbles but never stays with any one person for very long until he meets grimmjow jaegerjaques and ulquiorra cifer, a couple who are exploring dominance and submission for the first time together. aizen offers to teach them but finds his relationship with them far exceeds what he set out to do and forces him to confront his own inner demons if he wants to keep them in his life.





	1. a teacher and his students

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** non-consensual touching and ignoring a safeword in the opening scene as set-up. fair note that this is not the norm and the actions described are suitably discouraged by the narrative.

The crack of the whip against Grimmjow’s ass raised a fearful, pained shout from his lips.

His hands jerked at the binding around his wrists, the muscles in his arms bunched up and coiled, ready to swing at the smirking, self-confident bastard behind him who _swore_ the whip would come nowhere near his skin on their first evening together. When he had seen the sinister black coil of leather resting on top of the slender dark chest of the Dominant sprawled across one of the couches against the wall, it made him want to tuck his tail between his legs and escape this club as quickly as possible. Ulquiorra told him they could go home the moment he was no longer comfortable with the situation he had gotten them both into, and despite knowing that in his heart, Grimmjow still found himself pushing forward even as every implement and piece of sex furniture in the building made his stomach sour with fear.

The Dominant— Kurotsuchi Mayuri— was understanding when Grimmjow explained it was his first time and promised him they would not have to do anything that would frighten him or cause him physical harm. Evidently, the fucker had been lying to him. Before Grimmjow can suck in enough breath to safeword his way out of this scenario, the whip cracks once more through the air and he screams, yanking at the cuffs keeping him bound to the table he’s bent across.

“Stop complaining.” Mayuri sighs on an exhale, the playful undercurrent of his voice suggesting this is _exactly_ the situation he wanted the two of them to end up in. “You can take it, can’t you?”

Grimmjow whimpers pitifully and strains against the bounds on his wrists once more, yelping when Mayuri’s hand comes to settle on his bare ass. “Red! Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Already too afraid to play with me? Too much for you right out of the gate? How pitiful.” Mayuri’s hand remains in place, fingers tracing the welts he’s no doubt left on Grimmjow’s skin and the thought makes him panicky and sick with fear. “I don’t think I’m done playing, though.”

The words have a frightened cry leaving Grimmjow’s lips and he yanks at the bonds, not caring how the cuffs dig into his wrists as he tries to fight his way out of them. He feels Mayuri’s hand leave his skin and faint footsteps, bracing himself for the worst of the pain once more.

He should never have come here. He owes Ulquiorra a _massive_ apology.

“Mayuri.” The voice is unfamiliar to his ears and Grimmjow twists his neck around trying to see who has joined them, only able to make out a pair of black knee-high boots polished to a high shine. “The submissive has safeworded. What do you think you’re doing with that whip?”

“Aizen.” The tone of Mayuri’s voice is starkly different than it was a moment ago, true fear laced through the single word. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I was going to let him go.”

A yelp startles Grimmjow and then a man he does not recognize strides in front of the table, handling Mayuri roughly by the hair. “Was he going to stop, sub?”

Grimmjow swallows hard around a knot in his throat, giving his head a frantic shake. “No. He said he wasn’t done playing and he wouldn’t stop fucking touching me even though I said to.”

“That’s what I thought. Yammy!” The man remains patiently in place, Mayuri’s dark blue hair wrapped around one fist, until the bouncer Grimmjow had seen at the door arrives. “TakeMayuri and throw him out of the building. He is no longer allowed on the premises.”

Yammy nods, and all of the burly intimidation he had been radiating when Grimmjow first saw him seems significantly dim in comparison to the man before him. “Of course, Aizen.”

The man— Aizen— waits until Yammy and Mayuri are gone before he leans over, fingers moving deftly as he frees Grimmjow’s wrists from the leather cuffs, gently massaging away the slight ache that has formed from his frantic need to escape. Though he wants nothing more than to get as far away from this place as possible, Grimmjow has to admit the contact feels pleasant so he allows it to continue, lips pressed together as Aizen hums softly to him. His fingers are soft and warm, well-manicured and Grimmjow wonders how much money this man has. He’s willing to bet a lot, and his instincts are rarely wrong in such a regard.

Having attention from such a handsome man hardly bothers him, though, especially in the wake of that Mayuri had been about to do to him. What Mayuri  _had_ done to him, violating his already fragile trust to hurt him. But Aizen looks at him with such warm brown eyes, a few shades darker than the sleek hair brushed back and tied into a low ponytail. Only a single strand of hair has broken free, brushing against the side of his nose with each movement of his head.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Aizen says, and Grimmjow almost swallows his tongue at how different the quality of the man’s voice is now. “That shouldn’t have happened to you and I am personally very sorry that it did. This is meant to be a place where everyone can explore their horizons safely. Rest assured that Mayuri will not be allowed in this building again.”

Grimmjow wets his lips, which are dry with his nerves and the fear still churning in his gut. “I gotta say this is a hell of a first time to have in this establishment.”

“First time? I’ll fucking _kill_ him.” The edge in Aizen’s voice disappears entirely when he takes a step closer, leaning over the table enough to run the pads of his soft fingers down the side of Grimmjow’s face. “I am so sorry. That should never have happened to you. It might be hard to believe at the moment, but it really is supposed to be consensual.”

“Nah, I know. I guess I just got a bad one.” Grimmjow looks down at his ankles, hands braced on the table to keep his balance. “Can you, uh, get my feet?”

“Of course.” Aizen is behind him so swiftly that it makes Grimmjow’s head spin, and he keeps his hands to himself other than the faint brush of touch it takes to uncuff his ankles, massaging the feeling back into them with a practiced touch. “Would you like to go somewhere private to redress and sit for a while? I can remain at your side if you want to call someone to come pick you up. By all means, stay if you wish but I’ll understand if you want to leave.”

“You a saint or something?” Grimmjow wobbles unsteadily on his feet, eyes drifting over to where his clothes are still neatly folded and stacked on a small table.

Aizen’s smile is soft and sad around the edges as he takes Grimmjow’s hands in his own, fingers lacing gently with his. There’s something so _earnest_ about the touch that makes Grimmjow’s stomach twist with warmth. “Aizen Sosuke is my name. I am one of the Dominants who works here. I’m only doing what is proper for a Dominant to do.”

 _Aizen Sosuke._ Oh. It takes Grimmjow a few seconds to puzzle out why the name sounds familiar now that he can think again. When Ulquiorra had been researching the club with him, he insisted on knowing as much about the establishment as possible and Aizen Sosuke is one of the names of the three owners, which makes Grimmjow feel a little better as far as trusting him goes. If he had been so quick to throw Mayuri out, maybe he means well after all.

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.” He doesn’t know why he’s introducing himself, but it just comes out and Aizen nods kindly, thumbs brushing over Grimmjow’s knuckles. “Yeah, I’d really like to sit somewhere quiet for a minute. That scared the shit out of me.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a closer look at the welts Mayuri left on your skin. I might have something that can help ease the discomfort.” Every word is so clinical, so perfunctory.

Grimmjow presses his lips together at the thought, not sure if he wants a stranger’s hands on his body right now, but his ass is still throbbing from the whip so he decides to just go with it. Now that his arms and legs are free, he can just punch Aizen in the mouth if he tries anything. “As long as you don’t have to tie me down to do it, I don’t mind.”

“I’d _never_ try to tie you up in order to give you proper aftercare.” Aizen looks aghast at the notion and Grimmjow smiles, a little soothed by the words. “You can brace yourself against the table if it’ll make you feel more comfortable and help you keep your balance.”

Grimmjow does just that, leaning on his forearms while Aizen crouches down behind him, arms resting neatly on his leather-covered thighs. He’s _gorgeous_ up close and he dresses like he’s half-walked out of a business meeting to make it here, an open-throated while button-down over black leather pants that look painted onto the lengths of his long legs. When Grimmjow gives him a very small nod, Aizen’s fingers carefully brush over his skin, wonderfully cool against the hot welts that only sting more at his gentle inspection.

“Oh, darling.” Aizen sighs softly and shakes his head. “All right. Come with me. I’ll fix you up. You might want to let the oil settle in before putting your jeans back on. Denim is a very abrasive fabric when it comes to marks like these. Mayuri should have _never_ done this.”

Grimmjow doesn’t know how he feels about being naked around another man right now, teeth scraping over his lower lip before he speaks. “Is, like, my sweatshirt fine then?”

“Yes. Here.” Aizen picks his clothes up for him, handing him his sweatshirt before setting the rest of his clothing on the table for him to gather up as needed.

The sweatshirt smells like Ulquiorra, had been a favorite of his, oversized enough to swamp his tiny frame before Grimmjow stole it and made it part of his collection. It’s a couple of sizes too big for him, too, so that the sleeves slip past the tips of his fingers and the bottom of it hides his groin and ass from view. Even the soft cotton against his skin makes him grit his teeth. Yeah, Aizen had been serious. Denim was a terrible idea after all.

“Are you ready?” Aizen asks him, fingers curling carefully in the crook of Grimmjow’s elbow.

It might be rude to have an impression of Aizen this soon after meeting him, but he _reeks_ of being a gentleman in the best way and Grimmjow is intrigued even as he nods. “Yeah, I’m good. So, like, are we going… Where are we going? I’ve only just been through here.”

“I have a private room on reserve for whenever I desire to use it.” Aizen leads him toward one of the hallways on the other end of the room, waving a hand when a beautiful man with long black hair turns in their direction, his face creased with confusion and sympathy. “You can call someone, like I said, while I attend to you. It’ll make you feel better, I’m sure of that.”

Grimmjow’s gaze follows the beautiful man before it snaps back to Aizen. “Who was that?”

The question has the corners of Aizen’s lips turning up, his eyes glittering as he meets Grimmjow’s inquisitive gaze. “Well, it’s good to see you haven’t lost that darling curiosity. That was my husband, Kuchiki Byakuya. He also works as a Dominant here in this club.”

“Two hot guys and I ended up with that fucking dickhead,” Grimmjow mutters, shaking his head.

Aizen’s face softens and he presses his hand into the small of Grimmjow’s back, leading him down the length of the hallway to one of the doors at the very end. A set of keys flash into view, one of them quickly unlocking the door revealing… A rather normal looking bedroom, all things considered, done in white and cream and silver. Grimmjow gapes at it a few times, not sure he was ready for the sudden shift from the dark room behind him.

“My taste in color runs a bit more tame compared to the others, so I apologize if you feel let down by what you see here.” There’s a note of humor in Aizen’s voice as he closes the door behind them, giving the lock a twist. “Sorry if locking the door frightens you, but several people in this club have a key to my room. We try to keep each other in check the best we can.”

Grimmjow nods, shifting on his feet as he glances around the room. “So where am I sitting?”

“You can’t sit anywhere right now. Just lie down on the bed on your stomach and make yourself comfortable.” Aizen pats his back and then heads toward another door, flicking a light on just inside to reveal a small bathroom, a selection of bottles lining a granite sink.

By the time he returns, Grimmjow has convinced himself to crawl up on the bed, his arms folded and making a pillow for his head as he waits for Aizen to come to him. He shivers when careful fingers lift the bottom of his sweatshirt before settling the hem in the small of his back, Aizen’s movements ensuring the fabric never scrapes over his wounded ass. Grimmjow tries not to hold his breath and then a little squeak leaves his throat when something cool touches his skin.

“Easy, Grimmjow.” Aizen pets down his hip and Grimmjow quiets, looking over his shoulder at where Aizen sits, a peaceful expression on his face. “The ointment goes on cool to take the heat out of the welts, but it will warm to soothe the pain. How are you feeling?”

“...Fine, I guess?” He feels like something else is being asked of him, but he can’t figure out what it is supposed to be. “Like… I mean, it hurts, but I feel better just lying here.”

Aizen’s face softens further, a fond smile lighting his face that Grimmjow hardly understands. The two of them have just met, after all. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want your first experience here to be wholly bad. It upsets me when submissives come to me to tell me that the first person they ever spent time with in a serious manner used it to hurt them.”

Something about the easy lull of Aizen’s voice, warm and deep in the best ways, has Grimmjow’s nerves finally settling, his head feeling unexpectedly heavy on his arms. “Um, can you hand me my phone out of my pocket? I want to text my boyfriend and let him know where I am so he can come meet up with me. He’s gonna freak out when he realizes I’m gone.”

“Of course, darling.” Aizen retrieves his phone for him and then returns to gently rubbing the ointment into his skin, massaging it in so carefully that it barely stirs the pain. “You came here with a partner, but Mayuri was Dominating you? Is your partner uninterested?”

“He just doesn’t know what he wants.” Grimmjow texts Ulquiorra as he talks, reassuring his boyfriend at least twice in his message before telling him to find the pretty long-haired man named Byakuya out front, to ask for Aizen’s private room. “Like, he likes the idea of BDSM but he doesn’t know if he’d Dom or sub so he wanted to walk around and watch whatever he could to get a feel for it. I thought I’d be safe even if he wasn’t nearby.”

Aizen hums softly, smoothing his hand over Grimmjow’s ass. “You should have been safe. Mayuri should have respected your safeword. He also should not have used a whip on you on your first evening. I would never start with such extreme pain even if a submissive thought they would be interested in the pain aspect. Anyone else would have done the same.”

“Too bad that you weren’t the one I ran across at the beginning of the night, huh?” Grimmjow muses, and then he immediately wants to bite his own tongue off. What the _fuck_ had that been?

Ulquiorra demands to know what happened and Grimmjow repeats himself, to find Byakuya and asks for Aizen’s private room. He’s going to be on the hunt for blood when he finds out.

“You can always come back another evening and ask for me. I can even schedule you in so that we can have time to get to know each other properly.” Aizen sets the bottle on the nightstand, setting Grimmjow’s sweatshirt back over his ass, which already feels better.

A sudden pounding on the door startles both of them and Aizen stands to let Ulquiorra in, who almost shoves him out of the way as he strides over to the bed. He pulls himself up onto the mattress with shocking speed, hands raised like he has no idea what to do with them before he sets both of them in Grimmjow’s hair, combing it back from his face. While his expression is always stoic, there is a dangerous glint in his eye that says he _knows_ something awful happened and he wants to make the person responsible suffer.

“What happened?” he asks, voice cold and clipped.

“One of our Dominants refused to honor his safeword and injured him.” Aizen locks the door back, his face smooth and impassive and Grimmjow _winces_ at the choice in wording, at the way Ulquiorra's eyes widen. “He was quickly removed from the building and will not be returning. Grimmjow, would you like me to show him what was done?”

The question makes Grimmjow uncomfortable but he nods, his eyes slipping shut. “Please.”

A startled noise leaves Ulquiorra’s lips when Aizen lifts the sweatshirt away from his ass once more before placing it back where it was a moment before. “What _happened_ to him?”

“Mayuri favors a whip. He used it on Grimmjow and left these two welts. They are relatively small and will heal easily. I’ve applied an ointment to assist in the healing.” Aizen sits on the other side of the bed and something in Grimmjow feels calm with them bracketing him like this, like he’s safer, somehow. Which is stupid, because Ulquiorra is furious and Aizen is a stranger. “You are his partner, correct? I’m glad he brought someone here with him.”

“I am his boyfriend, yes. We’ve been together for five years.” The edge in Ulquiorra’s voice has Grimmjow groaning, swatting at his thigh, hand landing hard on the denim. “That _hurt._ ”

“Stop being a fucking asshole, he’s _married._ ” The last thing Grimmjow wants to deal with right now is Ulquiorra’s jealousy. “His husband was the one I sent you to. Be _nice,_ Ulquiorra.”

Ulquiorra is quiet for a moment, then blinks once. “Oh. I apologize, then.”

“Byakuya and I participate in an open marriage that allows us to sate our sexual desires with other people, but we have been married for over ten years now. Trust me to understand the depth of a relationship.” Aizen smiles briefly and there’s something so warm in that expression that Grimmjow wonders about that beautiful man once more, the look on his lovely face that said he didn’t know what was going on but felt bad anyway. “Ulquiorra, was it? Would you remain on the bed with him while I retrieve a few things from the refrigerator?”

The fingers in Grimmjow’s hair soothe through his hair once more. “Yes, of course.”

Grimmjow lets Ulquiorra pet him, content to just lie here and receive the attention while Aizen shifts off of the bed, the familiar sound of a refrigerator door opening and closing reminding him that he _thought_ he’d seen one on his way to the bed, tucked in the corner. When Aizen sits back down, Grimmjow turns to look at him, making an intrigued sound at the small box sitting on his lap alongside a small container of orange juice. Fuck, he’s _parched._

In more ways than one, he thinks, when Aizen sees his expression and chuckles softly.

“These are for you,” he says, and Grimmjow perks up all over again. “Had the scene gone successfully, Mayuri— Honestly, I now doubt he would have done what he _should_ have done, but aftercare is important. Comforting snacks and hydration. These are chocolate truffles, a few different flavors. Would you like some of them? You need it after _that,_ I think.”

“Fuck yeah, I love expensive chocolate.” Grimmjow pushes himself up, hesitation when he’s on his hands and knees. “I, uh, don’t know about sitting down like this, actually.”

“I am going to _kill_ that son of a bitch,” Ulquiorra snaps, hands moving to help brace Grimmjow’s legs, fingers carefully stroking Grimmjow’s skin like he worries he might break.

Aizen moves faster than Grimmjow anticipates, offering him one of the pillows from the head of the bed. “This might make it easier on you. Ulquiorra will help you, I’m sure.”

Sitting on the pillow makes it feel better than Grimmjow expects and he breathes a sigh of relief, then makes grabby hands for the treats. “Okay, I’m good. Gimme.”

“Rude,” Ulquiorra chastises him and Grimmjow shoots him a look for the effort.

“This is chocolate cheesecake. Open your mouth.” Aizen waits until Grimmjow has done as he asked, which admittedly takes longer than such a simple command should. But Grimmjow stares at him for a minute, not sure he heard him correctly, watching Aizen turn the truffle around between the tips of his long fingers before he finally breaks and opens his mouth.

With exquisite care, Aizen sets the truffle just inside of his mouth, a satisfied little _ahh_ leaving his lips as he does. “Very good. Now go ahead and indulge in your treat.”

Grimmjow bites down and _moans,_ the sweet cream spilling across his tongue while the fragile chocolate is already on its way to melting. There is a distinct satisfaction in Aizen’s eyes at his reaction and Ulquiorra makes a small relieved sound, rubbing his hand along Grimmjow’s thigh. It’s clear he’s worried but before Grimmjow can tell him to just calm the hell down, Aizen has another truffled poised at Ulquiorra’s lips, an eyebrow raised.

“Strawberry cream,” he says. “Would you like a bite? You look like you need it.”

Ulquiorra studies him over the top of the truffle for such a long moment that Grimmjow is sure he plans on rejecting the offer before he finally opens his mouth just enough for Aizen to wedge it between his lips. When he bites down, though, his eyes widen at the taste.

“It’s very delicious,” he says, swiping a bit of chocolate shell off of his lower lip, and Grimmjow could swoon at the sight of that. “But I am not the one who was hurt tonight.”

Aizen scoffs, feeding Grimmjow another truffle before cracking open the bottle of juice, handing it over when Grimmjow makes a grab for it. Chocolate and orange are such a good taste combination and he’s glad to let Aizen feed him.

“You’re upset, Ulquiorra. A Dominant’s job is to take care of their charge. Believe me when I say I know _why_ you’re upset, but that doesn’t mean I can slack on my job. It’s best to make sure both of you have a better rest of your evening.” Aizen raises an eyebrow at Grimmjow when Grimmjow gets brave, swiping his tongue between Aizen’s fingers to take the truffle, this one chocolate around an actual cherry with some vanilla cream for good measure. “After all, I want you to have a good experience. You might come back if you do.”

“I do not have confidence in that,” Ulquiorra says quickly, his arm snaking around Grimmjow’s waist, and Grimmjow jumps a little at the suddenness of it, of the possession in Ulquiorra’s touch and the burn in his emerald eyes. “Grimmjow was hurt. It would seem that trusting a stranger here may not be the best option for him.”

Instead of growing offended or upset, Aizen only nods in understanding, spreading his hands out in front of him, palms up. “I understand your hesitation now. Your lovely partner was hurt, and his safeword was ignored. It was our poor judgment that allowed Mayuri to have a job here, but he will not return, and I can vouch for the other Dominants in this building.”

Something flashes in Ulquiorra’s eyes. “So if we said we wanted your husband—”

“Byakuya?” Aizen blinks a few times before he smiles, as if catching onto the game that Grimmjow is _pissed_ Ulquiorra is trying to play with him. “Well, if you think he would be a proper fit, you’d have to sit down and have the conversation with him yourself. He has Renji as well, who is somewhat of his dedicated submissive, so it might be hard, but I’ll put in a good word if that’s what you’d like me to do.”

“It doesn’t bother you.” Ulquiorra sounds surprised and Grimmjow smacks him on the thigh, satisfied when he yelps and jumps. “Stop _hitting_ me.”

Grimmjow scowls at him. “He’s _not_ gonna be a jealous prick about this, Quiorra, so stop trying to bait him into saying shit like that. You should be ashamed. Yeah, okay, it sucks that I got hurt but I’m _okay_ and it’s because of Aizen. So why are you trying to start shit with him?”

“It’s quite all right, Grimmjow. Ulquiorra has ever right to be upset with me.” Aizen leans forward and Ulquiorra freezes in place, deer in the headlights as Aizen’s fingers caress the line of his jaw. “From the bottom of my heart, Ulquiorra, I apologize. I promise you that I would _never_ want such a thing to happen here. Had I known Mayuri was capable of such brutality, he never would have crossed the threshold. He never will again, I can reassure you of that much.”

Ulquiorra frowns, and Grimmjow watches his small white hands ball up into fists on his thighs, his eyes burning even though his expression remains melancholy. “I don’t like the fact Grimmjow was injured. It makes me think that we can’t trust the lot of you, and he wants to explore this. I do, too, but he _knows_ what he wants from this, and I—”

“I’m right here and you’re talking about me like I’m not. I don’t like that.” Grimmjow hates it when Ulquiorra can just… Talk for him, talk about him like he’s not sitting here able to fill in all the blanks his damn self. “I want to try again. Just with someone I can trust this time.”

Sighing, Ulquiorra pinches the bridge of his nose— But he doesn’t quite pull away from Aizen’s touch. “Who would you be able to trust, Grimmjow? We know none of these people.”

“We can ask Aizen.” Grimmjow watches Ulquiorra’s head jerk at the words, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What? He brought me here and took care of me. He’s even trying to take care of you if you’d get the stick out of your ass long enough to let him. He’s not giving me bad vibes or anything. Hell, he coulda groped my ass when he was taking care of it and he didn’t.”

“If you wish, Ulquiorra, you can be present for anything I would do with Grimmjow. You can be the referee if you think I am doing something wrong.” Aizen’s eyes glitter and Grimmjow sucks in a breath at the thought, being vulnerable and at someone’s mercy while Ulquiorra watches probably with his hands folded on so neatly in his lap. That’d be so fucking _hot,_ he definitely wants that. “We can all sit down together and discuss boundaries and what we could do for the first scene together. Something easy just as a warm-up curiosity, perhaps.”

Grimmjow wrinkles his nose. “Hey, I ain’t that fragile. I can take a little pain.”

“The point is not to make you take the pain if you don’t want it. I’m not a sadist, Grimmjow. I will give you pain if you desire it, but I will not push your limits right away.” Aizen is amazingly patient, Grimmjow thinks, because he would have blown his fucking top off if he had to deal with two idiots like he and Ulquiorra are acting right now. “I would start with something slow to make sure you understand what it means to submit, that you could follow my orders. Then I could see if you are easily overwhelmed and what you can truly take.”

Ulquiorra clears his throat. “And I could be present so I make sure nothing happens to him?”

Aizen nods without hesitation, and Grimmjow purrs at the thought. “Absolutely. I would welcome you to watch, Ulquiorra. Perhaps, together, we can discover what aspect of this game appeals to you so that we can find a way for you to enjoy yourself, as well.”

“It’s my body and my consent and I’m saying I’m game.” Grimmjow bounces a little at the thought, then winces a little, his ass still tender. “Might wanna wait for that to heal up.”

“If you wish to.” Aizen’s lips quirk in a knowing smile. “But I can do plenty without ever aggravating that pain of yours, so if you don’t want to, there’s always that option. It’s up to the two of you. Grimmjow, if you want to, then I would gladly lead you. Ulquiorra?”

Pale fingers curl around Aizen’s wrist and Ulquiorra sighs softly. “If Grimmjow wants to, then I will be there for him to ensure his safety. So yes, I consent as well.”

Grimmjow’s stomach kicks in excitement and he has to fight the urge to bounce again, watching a slow smile spread across Aizen’s full lips, wondering what they taste like, what they’d feel like on his body.

He can’t wait to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is my project for nanowrimo 2018, the first time in a long time i've used fanfic in lieu of writing something original. i had a different idea in mind when this one came to me and i'm running with it. i'll be including author's notes with suitable warning for sexual content and other warnings as necessary based on chapter content, so read them carefully. i don't want to upset anyone unintentionally here.
> 
> updates are going to be weirdly frequent though i cannot promise every day. i have no idea how long each chapter will be and i'll post them as i finish them, unedited because that is the spirit of nanowrimo. so if you want to keep up with this, it's going to be a marathon until the very end. i don't know if the story will be complete on day 30, but i will push through until the end.
> 
> this is an exploration of bdsm and healthy polyamory as much as anything else. don't come into this afraid that everything is going to fall apart as i have zero intentions of letting that happen. there will be struggles and steps to take along the way, but no fear of any of the relationships fracturing as a result.


	2. a torrent of feelings and a lack of labels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** some blanket mentions of what mayuri did in chapter one, a few vague mentions of abuse as well as some mentions of transphobia and body dysphoria as it relates to sexual acts.
> 
>  **sexual content:** general jokes an teasing, impromptu d/s scene, hair pulling, general consensual rough treatment, oral sex and a hand job.

When Aizen Sosuke had been growing up, the idea of living in a nice house with a husband who loves him had seemed like a far-off dream. It makes the reality all the sweeter, the sight of Kuchiki Byakuya sitting with his back wedged against the corner of the couch, legs drawn up so he can prop a book up on his thighs filling him with a familiar warmth.

“Good morning, darling.” He walks up behind Byakuya, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. Time really did nothing to erode their feelings for one another, and that knowledge makes him feel so fulfilled. “How was your evening?”

“It’s afternoon now, my love. And my evening was good. Renji wants to know if we have plans this weekend because he wants to come over for a night.” Byakuya sets one graceful finger on the page in front of him, craning his head back to look up at Aizen. “We don’t, do we? I told him I had to wait to talk to you.”

Aizen whips his cell phone out of his pocket to check the digital calendar they share, giving a quick head shake when he finds the squares for Friday, Saturday, _and_ Sunday empty. “He’s in the clear to come over. I’m glad you brought him up, though. I have to talk to you about something, the two men who spent most of their evening in my private room.”

“Get coffee first and then come talk to me.” Byakuya turns back to his book and Aizen smiles against the soft black silk of his hair. “I already have mine and you look like you need it.”

That is an understatement. Aizen hums softly against Byakuya’s hair before making his way to the kitchen where the coffee is already prepared. He takes it black unlike Byakuya, who prefers cream with his, and takes a deep drink before he returns to the living room. After sending Grimmjow and Ulquiorra home with more than a few things to think about, Aizen had to sit down with Byakuya and Tier Halibel to discuss effectively firing Mayuri and moving through with the process as quickly as possible. They had come home later than intended as a result, and Aizen had slept fitfully as the reality settled in that they allowed that monster into Las Noches.

His background check had been flawless, which means Aizen needs to make some calls today to the other two clubs he had worked for so he can let them know Mayuri had turned up issues and that they might need to check on customers and club submissives to ensure no permanent damage had been done. It was a miracle in and of itself Grimmjow reacted so loudly and so fearlessly in the face of Mayuri’s cruelty. Aizen knows firsthand how hard it can be to speak up when it comes to any abusive actions, and he’s relieved it had been within his range of sight.

Of course, this means Mayuri will not have the option to hurt anyone else who works for them and Aizen is happy for that, but he wishes the cost could have been less than it was. That Mayuri had been late to work enough times to fire him, or had been insubordinate enough to send on his way. Though Aizen had been able to keep it together for Grimmjow’s sake— he needed a foundation to help him come back to himself— that did not change the fact he _wanted_ to drag Mayuri out of the club himself and suitably beat him in the parking lot.

When he returns to the living room and sits down on the couch, Byakuya closes his book and sets it aside, resting his socked feet in Aizen’s lap with no hesitation. “So, what did you want to talk to me about? Those two inquiring after your services?”

“They are. I didn’t see the need to bring it up when we talked with Halibel, but I wanted to make sure you knew about it today.” Part of having an open marriage is communication and honesty, so when it comes to being involved with anyone at the club, they let each other know well ahead of time. “Grimmjow wants to learn to submit properly and Ulquiorra has no idea what aspect draws him in yet. I’m not even sure, he’s very difficult to read.”

Byakuya nods thoughtfully, picking up his mug from the coffee table, wrapping his long fingers around it. “I had that impression of him when he came to ask me where your room was. His face betrays very little, but his eyes are expressive. Of course, that’s not enough to read, really.”

“No, it’s not. Though I’m sure he would be very vocal if he was uncomfortable in any scene. As of right now, he’s just going to be watching while I dominate Grimmjow.” Aizen can only imagine how that’s going to go down and would hope Ulquiorra has the good sense to keep his comments to himself unless Grimmjow visibly needs his assistance.

“It’s been a while since you’ve had a proper submissive,” Byakuya muses, sipping his coffee while Aizen just stares at him. “What? You know it’s true. Renji doesn’t count for you.”

“That’s true, since you’re only sharing him with me and I think he’d override my command if you told him to.” Aizen smiles when Byakuya’s eyes narrow at him, the challenge hanging between them for just a moment before Aizen clears his throat. “Do you want to meet them formally?”

“If they stay around and things go well between you, then certainly. Otherwise, I don’t see the need. It might not even work out if Ulquiorra decides to cause problems.” Byakuya tips his head back, pale grey eyes fixed on the ceiling even as a smile quirks his lips.

The comment has Aizen heaving a sigh as he stares over Byakuya’s shoulder into the kitchen, the wide space full of early afternoon sunlight as it spills through the pale cream curtains, drenching the space in warmth. Every now and then, though he should be used to this, Aizen is struck by how well his life has fallen together over the years. Hard work not only in his business life but in his personal life, pouring all of himself into everything he did, had _finally_ resulted in the happily ever after he always wanted for himself and for Byakuya. The slender golden band that resides on his finger and has for the last decade is proof of that.

And it feels almost strange, in their fairytale life, to be discussing something like taking on new sexual partners over their would-be-morning coffee with the sun cheerfully shining.

“I am worried about that,” he admits, and Byakuya looks at him, curiosity laced through his gaze. “What? I’m sure you could feel it. He mouthed off to me more than a few times.”

To his amusement, Byakuya wrinkles his nose and takes another drink of coffee, setting the mug back on the coffee table. “I know I probably shouldn’t be surprised to hear that, but it’s still not a positive sign. He’s going to cause you and Grimmjow all kinds of trouble.”

“It’s a possibility. He wants to protect him, but I think maybe too much? He’s defensive and possessive and that’s not a great combination for what they’re trying.” And Aizen would know considering just how many years Renji has been in their lives without having any real issues to run into except for how to divide their time. “At least he’s honest enough to admit he doesn’t know what he wants instead of trying to train as a Dominant right away.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone rushed into this just so they could fulfill needs their partner has without ever thinking about their own,” Byakuya muses, nudging Aizen’s stomach with his foot and smiling when Aizen sets his coffee down to rub Byakuya’s feet.

That brings back memories, not all of them pleasant. “Remember when Kira thought he was going to be a switch because of Gin’s submissive streak? That was interesting. Kensei almost went insane trying to tell him that such a thing wasn’t necessary.”

“Kira is a sweet man. I’m not surprised he fell into the same trap so many others do.” Byakuya sighs and lets his head fall back, dark hair falling over the arm of the couch as he watches Aizen through long eyelashes. “You liked them, didn’t you? Those two. Even when we were handling Mayuri, you had this little smile on your face. It was really sweet.”

“I do. I should have been upfront with them last night when we were talking about what limits Grimmjow wants to explore, but I wasn’t.” Aizen’s tone is wistful and he sighs, pressing his thumbs against Byakuya’s arches to ease the tension in them.

Byakuya sits up, his hands tight around Aizen’s wrists so that Aizen _has_ to look up at him. “You didn’t owe them anything you didn’t want to say right then and there. You had no idea how either of them was going to take it. Coming out is a delicate process no matter how many times you do it, and if they say a _word_ about it, they aren’t allowed back in the building.”

Part of the allure of building Las Noches was the three of them being able to set limits as to who and who could not enter the building, creating an atmosphere where the LGBT community in particular would feel safe and welcome above all else. It was why working with Byakuya and Halibel is such a soothing experience; two gay trans men and a lesbian are bound to put the needs of their community first, which is what all of them wanted in the first place. The world of kink has always had weird stereotypes even though it should have given everyone an opportunity and a chance to explore their interests without being afraid of judgement.

And they’d _still_ let a creep like Mayuri slip through the cracks. Aizen wonders if it’s worth doing second background checks for the Dominants he should be able to trust.

“I know, love.” Aizen leans in to peck Byakuya on the lips, and he still loves that he can do so freely. “I’ll just have to hope for the best that when they looked into the club, they realized they were walking into a space where trans people were going to be.”

“If you want me to be there when you tell them, I will be. Without question. I don’t think they’d question your husband wanting to meet them directly.” Byakuya’s hands slide up Aizen’s arms, gripping his forearms in a vice-like tightness that says he means business.

But Aizen shakes his head, leaning in to kiss Byakuya again, letting this one linger against his lips to calm him down. The last thing he wants is for Byakuya to get wound up or upset about something that hasn’t even happened yet. “I can handle it. I told Grimmjow a thousand times last night that everything came down to trust. If he’s going to trust me after what Mayuri did to him, the least I can do is offer this in return so he knows I trust him, too.”

“Just be careful. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” A shadow crosses Byakuya’s face and Aizen understands far too well; both of them have been hurt enough times in their lives to compensate for the rest of the years they have left. “I make no promises for Renji. If they do or say anything wrong and Renji should so happen to find out, he might kill them.”

The remark has Aizen laughing as he relaxes against the couch, Byakuya letting him go to lean back as well. “Well, it would be so tragic if Renji were to just find out such a thing. Good thing no one would just _tell_ him, right? He has limited sources of information.”

Byakuya shrugs a shoulder non committedly. “I don’t know what he overhears or from whom. I think I’ll go ahead and text him that he can come by this weekend, though.”

“Why don’t you invite him over today? I’m free from work and we don’t have anything planned to my knowledge.” Aizen doesn’t bother to check his calendar this time; they can just move events as needed if anything comes up. “I’m getting too used to having him around.”

“Believe me when I say I know what you mean.” Byakuya swings his legs off of Aizen’s lap and stands; he must have left his cell phone in the kitchen to charge. “Next thing I know, I’ll be saying something stupid about him moving in. Make sure I don’t do that.”

Aizen laughs after him and lets his head fall back against the couch, eyes drifting shut as he tries to puzzle out how that living arrangement would work out. Truth be told, Renji spends enough time at the house he might as well at least look for an apartment nearby, but neither of them have broached the topic with him. Though he and Byakuya have been together for something like five years now— _their anniversary is coming up,_ Aizen notes— Renji tries to keep what he thinks is a respectful distance because Byakuya is still married.

It’s a work in progress, as everything is. He’ll figure out Byakuya has room for him, soon.

“We’re in luck,” Byakuya announces as he returns to the living room, his tone dry enough that Aizen looks up at him, brows furrowed. “Renji has assured me he _totally_ was not going to surprise us with lunch and is not, in fact, at the light about to turn into our neighborhood.”

“Please tell me you said something to him about texting and driving,” Aizen groans.

Byakuya smiles as bright as the sun outside. “I told him that if I ever catch him doing it again, he’s going to feel twenty-five strikes from my favorite wooden paddle.”

Aizen whistles; the paddle is thick wood with holes drilled into it to decrease wind resistance so that every crack hits home, and he reserves it only for the strictest punishments. Texting and driving is a serious offense, though, so he understands and likely would have recommended it himself had Byakuya asked him for his opinion. The last thing any of them want is for Renji to end up hurt because of something as stupid as replying to a text message and taking his eyes off of the road for any length of time.

“He stopped by your favorite soba restaurant to get lunch. I think he’s worried about you.” Byakuya foregoes his side of the couch to crawl directly into Aizen’s lap instead, straddling his thighs, their hips meeting neatly as he rests his arms companionably around Aizen’s shoulders. “He saw how addled you were last night by what Mayuri did. He cares about you.”

The thought makes Aizen smile as he slips his arms around Byakuya’s waist to steady him. “I know. Jealous? Your boyfriend thinks of me so much these days, it seems.”

“My boyfriend falling in love with my husband, how tragic. My entire life continues to fall perfectly into place, proving I’m far too lucky.” Byakuya presses their foreheads together and Aizen glories in the closeness, the warmth of Byakuya’s touch and his presence. “I should bring it up to him sometime, ask him what the hell all that _I only see you_ rhetoric was about.”

Aizen laughs so hard his stomach aches and his ribs throb and Byakuya clings to him to avoid being jostled off of his lap, muttering an _honestly_ as he runs his fingers through Aizen’s hair. When they encounter the elastic band keeping his hair back in a somewhat messy bun this afternoon, he snaps it, freeing Aizen’s hair to run down his back, fingers combing through it until most of it is back behind his shoulders. While Aizen likes having long hair, he usually ties it back out of his face and their lives are forever an argument of Byakuya trying to untie it.

The sound of tires on the driveway outside and a familiar revving engine have Byakuya off of Aizen’s lap in an instant, stalking toward the front door and yanking it open. “ _Renji!_ What do you think you’re doing? This is a neighborhood and people are _asleep._ ”

The engine cuts and Aizen tilts his head, smothering laughter against his palm when he hears the squawk of Renji’s voice. “Sorry, babe! I completely fucking forgot about that.”

“These houses on either side of mine are just ornaments now?” Byakuya’s voice has an edge to it that makes Aizen sit up, craning his neck to see the ramrod straightness of Byakuya’s spine. _Oh, Renji might be in trouble._ “Get in here right this instant before you incur punishment.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Renji appears at the doorway in an instant, juggling a large paper bag in one arm while he leans down to press a furious kiss to Byakuya’s lips. “I just got excited, had the engine serviced yesterday and she _purrs_ now. Hey there, Sosuke, rough night I heard?’

Byakuya hooks his fingers in the collar of Renji’s t-shirt, dragging him in through the front door before shutting it firmly behind hm. “Our neighbors are never going to let us live this down.”

“Ichimaru said he sunbathes almost naked in his front yard and no one’s ever been sideways with him about it, so I think you’re fine.” Renji holds the food up in front of him when Byakuya’s eyes narrow slightly, beaming at him from behind it. “Hey, I got your favorite!”

“Rough night, but a much better day,” Aizen finally answers when an opening arrives.

“All right.” Byakuya takes the bag and spirits it off to the kitchen. “But you better be on your best behavior or I’m going to think twice about that punishment, after all.”

Renji watches after him slightly breathless before he gives himself a little shake and Aizen settles back into the couch, chuckling to himself over the two of them. When Byakuya first brought Renji home and talked to Aizen about their relationship expanding from a simple Dom and sub dynamic to something more akin to dating, Aizen had been surprised Byakuya was so interested in the man. Renji is headstrong and stubborn, can be downright obnoxious when he wants to be, but his playful attitude and overall warmth has mellowed Byakuya out.

It’s not really a surprise Aizen is so used to having him around, now.

As if reading his mind, a pair of strong tattooed arms wind around his shoulders from behind, Renji’s head coming to rest against his own. “I got your favorite, too. Bya told me what happened with that buck-toothed asshole and I’m sorry. Is everything going to be okay?”

“Everything is fine. He’s been fired and the submissive he injured is considering letting himself be in my care from now on.” Aizen leans back into Renji’s embrace, a hand coming up to loosely curl around one of those strong wrists. “How was your night? Did you have fun?”

“I did! He kept me on a leash all night long, it was amazing. All he had to do was move his arm and I could feel it.” In his mind’s eye, Aizen always imagines Renji as a massive puppy dog where Byakuya is concerned, all perked ears and cocked head and fast wagging tail every time he talks about him. It’s horribly endearing. “You gonna bring the new sub around the house or is it staying in the club? ‘Cause I’m so onboard with sharing if I get to play.”

 _Sharing._ Aizen considers the word, tilting his head back to meet Renji’s warm brown eyes. “Is that so? Well, we’ll just have to see how things work out, hmm?”

“The food is waiting on the— Oh.” Byakuya stops in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame as he looks at the two of them and Aizen sees something like carnal satisfaction flicker through his eyes and wonders, distantly, if this might have been Byakuya’s desire all along. “This is such a lovely image to talk in on. By all means, pretend like I’m not even here.”

“We’re not going to fuck before we’ve even eaten.” Renji’s voice is so matter-of-fact that Aizen snorts, then hums softly when Renji’s lips press a warm, gentle kiss to the side of his neck. “Anyway, let’s go eat. I brought your favorites, like I said. And I _won’t_ text and drive anymore.”

“Good boy.” Byakuya lifts his chin and Aizen can feel the difference in Renji’s body at the words, can feel the slight tremor that works its way through his limbs. “You did very good for us, Renji, and I’m proud of you for knowing what you did was wrong. Now, let’s have lunch together.”

The food is, predictably, perfect. Aizen would expect nothing less of one of his favorite establishments and enjoying his food in the company of the two people he loves most in his life only makes it all the sweeter. Renji launches into the antics of the band he and a few friends are trying to scrape together despite the fact all of them have day jobs and Renji spends quite a few of his free nights at Las Noches.

“I’m trying to get Nelliel to break and come check out the atmosphere since it changed Hisagi’s life.” Renji _preens_ at this knowledge and Aizen rolls his eyes just a little around a hot mouthful of soba noodles. “You think Hal would be interested in showing her around?”

Byakuya looks thoughtful, tapping his chopsticks against his plate for a moment. “I could try to ask her, if you want. She hasn’t been doing much when she’s around other than the handful of classes she teaches, but she seems to like showing new people the ropes.”

“The literal ropes,” Aizen muses, and Byakuya snorts into his rice. “What’s Nel into?”

“She’s mentioned bondage once when I came in with my wrists marked up. I know she likes the whole submissive aspect, though, Kira was going _on_ about it once and she was so into it.” Renji twirls his chopsticks in his noodles, one of his cuter absent habits. “I dunno what else, though. She’s a little on edge ‘cause she had this shitty ex who was mean to her about it, but I figure Hal’s like… the crown lesbian so I can’t imagine anyone treating her better.”

 _The crown lesbian. I’ll remember to mention that to her the next time I see her._ “Does Nel like women? The only partner of hers you’ve ever mentioned was the ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh, God, yeah. She’s bi, too. Keeps saying when we have fangirls she’s going to steal all of them because they’re going to be dazzled by her hot guitar playing skills.” Renji pauses, as if considering. “I don’t think I mind, though. I’m happy with that I’ve got right now.”

The sentiment is a sweet one and Aizen feels oddly warm at hearing it. “That’s very sweet of you to say. Byakuya’s a real catch, it’s good to know you properly appreciate him.”

“In more ways than one,” Byakuya muses, and Aizen almost chokes on his noodles.

“You guys are gonna kill each other one day.” Renji almost pushes himself up from his chair but Aizen shakes his head, washing the bite of food down with tea. “You sure? Okay. But like… Yeah, I appreciate Byakuya. That’s a given. I just mean, like… Fuck, not to sound _sappy_ —”

“You’re talking to married men, Renji. You can be as sappy as you want,” Byakuya reminds him.

Renji sets his chopsticks down and Aizen raises an eyebrow at him. Oh? He has something serious to say to them? “I don’t just mean, like, as your sub or whatever. Or even just as your boyfriend. I mean, uh, maybe it’s not my place to say it, like— Shit, this is weird.”

“You can just say it.” Byakuya shifts toward, resting his hand on top of Renji’s, their fingers lacing together as if by memory. “I told you a long time ago that honesty is my only policy.”

“Right, right, I just don’t wanna make things weird. I mean, well, when we first met it was just the two of us and it was very segmented from the rest of your life and I was cool with it, like, I got it, you had a husband and a life and all that. But like, now…” Renji is quiet for a long moment and Aizen watches him, wondering where he’s going with this when very suddenly, Renji is staring directly at him, his eyes intense enough to feel like they’re cleaving Aizen’s soul in two.

Byakuya cocks his head to the side. “You’re happy to be a proper part of my life now?”

Aizen clears his throat, takes another sip of tea because his mouth is suddenly very dry. “I don’t think that’s quite what he’s trying to tell us, my love.”

“‘Cause it’s not. I’m happy because, like, I get to spend time with _both_ of you now.” Renji presses his fingers to his mouth briefly like he can’t quite believe he said it before he drops his hand, his resolve seeming to harden. “Like, I’m not gonna try to say I’m dating both of you or whatever, I get if it’s just ‘cause I’m around all the time, but I like being with both of you. Like, this? This is pretty fucking great. I couldn’t ask for better than this.”

“Ah, I see. Well, we like having you in our lives. Don’t we, Sosuke?” Byakuya’s other hand comes to land on top of Aizen’s, and Renji slides a questing hand across the table.

The question is silent but obvious and Aizen sets his hand in the warm cradle of Renji’s own, his heart threatening to climb up into his throat and _stay_ there from the weight of this. “You’re very sweet, Renji. I hadn’t realized that I meant something to you in such a way.”

“Of course you do. At first I just, like, wanted to stay on your good side because I was sure Bya would kick me out the second I acted up around you. But you’re pretty geat on your own, too.” Renji’s smile goes a little rogue and a dark glitter enters his eyes. “And hey, the sex is pretty great too, right? I like being between you two for that, too.”

“You are the absolute worst,” Byakuya pronounces. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

It takes Aizen a few false starts to voice his own feelings, but in his defense he didn’t expect to be blindsided in such a way. “Thank you. I’m glad that we have this bond now. I don’t know if I have a label for it, but if you’re currently content without one, then so am I.”

“Man, as long as I get to hug and kiss on you like I already do, fuck labels.” Renji squeezes both of their hands before letting go, his shoulders sagging in what looks like relief. “I’m glad I got that out, though. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

Byakuya’s eyes soften in sympathy. “Next time, just tell us outright how you feel. It wasn’t so hard, was it? And everything is just fine now.”

 _Better than fine,_ Aizen thinks dizzily even as he nods.

“Renji. Sosuke.” Byakuya picks his chopsticks up with a dainty air that Aizen knows means trouble, picking up a piece of chicken, his eyes focused on his plate. “I’d like to watch the two of you together after we finish eating. I was serious when I said I wanted you to continue as if I was not even there. I think such a thing is in order given the circumstances.”

Aizen’s mouth feels dry and cottony all over again. “I have no problem with that.”

“You think I’m gonna say no?” Renji scoffs, stabbing his noodles pointedly. “You got it, Sir.”

They finish their food and Byakuya makes Renji help him clear the table and load the dishwasher, brushing his hand along the back of Renji’s neck or down the length of his bare arm, small and teasing touches that Aizen tracks with his eyes, amusement twisting his lips into a smirk. When the table is clean, Byakuya takes Aizen by the hand and leads him into the living room, sitting him down in one of the chairs in the room, a quick snap of his fingers all it takes to have Renji on his knees in front of the chair, though his gaze is torn.

It’s hard to look at two people when they aren’t in your range of sight.

“You should thank Sosuke for letting you into his life as you thank me for disciplining you and guiding you.” Byakuya wraps a hand around Renji’s ponytail, a hard and sudden yank arching Renji’s throat, bearing down on him until a hot flush grows in Renji’s face. “He’s been so kind humoring your behavior, hasn’t he? Been so sweet when you were all over him?”

Renji’s mouth opens around a whine that Byakuya cuts off by giving his hair another jerk. “Y-yes, Sir! Aizen-sama has been nothing but tolerant and welcoming, Sir.”

“Exactly. My Sosuke has been _perfect_ to you and you will repay him for such a kindness now.” Byakuya yanks Renji’s ponytail forward, bowing his head and shoving him toward the floor so that Renji has to catch himself with his hands. Without missing a beat, Byakuya plants his foot on Renji’s back to keep him in place, leaning over him to cup Aizen’s jaw.

Seeing Byakuya like this never fails to excite Aizen; both of them prefer dominance when it comes to this game and neither of them have ever been good at submission, but they watch each other often and when it comes to Renji, Aizen is allowed to participate. There have been submissives from Las Noches who are happy to be under their control just so they can enjoy each other like this, but Renji has adapted to it better than anyone else has.

“Darling.” Byakuya’s voice drips honey, his fingers ghosting along Aizen’s jaw so tenderly as he leans in for a brief kiss. “Shall my sub service you with his mouth? Would that be acceptable?”

Aizen’s throat tightens at the question and he closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He _trusts_ Renji with his body and Renji has never done anything but repay that trust with openness and respect, has never seen Aizen differently. The uncertainty is always there just beneath the surface, but Renji has never been less than perfect.

So Aizen has nothing to be afraid of. “That would be lovely, actually.”

“Your lucky day, sub. Dessert after lunch.” Byakuya smirks when Aizen flushes at the implication, stealing another kiss before he leans away, taking his foot off of Renji’s back. “Pull his pants and underwear down, Renji. If you are unnecessarily quick or rough, then it’s five.”

“Yes, Sir!” Renji bounces back up onto his knees like Byakuya hadn’t been pinning him to the floor just a moment ago, though the obvious tent at the front of his jeans reveals just how much the play has already done for him— And then those big brown eyes are on his, and Aizen stretches out a hand, fingers brushing one of the dark tattoos on Renji’s face. “May I, Sir?”

In scene, Renji never fails to have impeccable manners. “Yes, Renji, you may.”

His touch is reverent as he helps Aizen out of his slacks and boxers, setting them neatly aside while Aizen makes himself comfortable in the chair. It’s a recliner, unnecessarily plush and wide enough that he and Byakuya can share it and they usually do when they watch films together, but it also works well for this. It gives him enough room to set his feet on the edge of it, ass braced on the very edge so he’s bare to Renji’s eyes— and mouth— while his back isn’t at an awkward or painful angle. Maybe he thought about that when he purchased it.

He sees a slight flush creeping along Byakuya’s cheekbones at the sight and bites back a smile, trying to keep his attention focused on Renji instead. “Is this what you want, sub?”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji licks his lips and the sight is lewd enough to make Aizen’s stomach jump just a little. “Byakuya-sama, am I allowed to start now?”

Byakuya comes to stand behind Renji, winding a hand slowly in his ponytail, fingers sifting through the strands as he gathers it in his fist. He takes his time and Aizen can see the little shivers running through Renji’s body, the anticipation no doubt building as he waits for Byakuya’s response. When Byakuya gives his hair a sudden jerk, Renji moans loudly and openly, his eyelids fluttering as he sways on his knees.

“You are, but—” Byakuya gives another small pull and Renji makes a choked noise. “But you _will_ make it enjoyable for him, and you _will_ ensure his orgasm. This is for him, _not_ you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji is unabashed in his enjoyment, squirming, his excitement open on his face.

For just a moment, Byakuya’s eyes soften. Then he shoves Renji forward, Renji’s hair tickling Aizen’s stomach and thighs as it brushes against his bare skin. “Now get to work, sub.”

Renji looks up into Aizen’s eyes and then leans forward, mouth pressing open wet kisses against his skin as Aizen’s head falls back against the chair, a soft sigh leaving his parted lips. It doesn’t escape his attention that Renji did not ask if he was allowed to use his hands; he already knows he isn’t, knows that the only part of him allowed near this part of Aizen’s body is his mouth. It’s maybe absurd to some but Aizen doesn’t otherwise like being touched— at least from others, Byakuya is _different_ — but oral is, for the most part, entirely fine. And Renji has always been good with his mouth, good at both singing and this.

He drags his tongue over his lips when he leans back for just a moment and Aizen shivers when Renji moans, low and deep out of his chest, and then he’s back between Aizen’s thighs once more, tongue tracing over the edges of his labia, a slow build like Aizen likes it. Byakuya has no real preference, just goes with whatever he feels like in the moment, but Aizen likes it slow, likes an almost tease of pleasure and warmth to build into a truly satisfying orgasm.

Byakuya presses a hand to his mouth, his expression carefully schooled as he watches the two of them though Aizen knows how much this appeals to Byakuya, how much he likes watching the two of them together. Especially like this, using Renji to pleasure Aizen, directing his movements while Aizen just lies here and lets himself experience it.

When Byakuya winds a hand in Renji’s hair and yanks him off, Renji makes a frustrated little noise and Aizen can see the wetness spread across his lips and chin, evidence of just how talented he is with his tongue. “Tell me how he tastes, sub. You look like you’re enjoying him.”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji’s voice is a half-whine, hands balling up into fists on his thighs as he looks up at Byakuya, and it looks like a struggle to stay focused. “He tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Very good.” Byakuya drags a finger through the mess on Renji’s chin, sucks the slickness off of his finger and Aizen spasms at the sight, fighting the urge to press his thighs together or touch himself to soothe the ache. “Go back to work. Don’t leave him wanting.”

Renji’s mouth is back between Aizen’s legs within seconds, picking up where he left off, tongue slipping between Aizen’s folds to trace over his clit. It’s so gratifying, the way Renji looks up at him like he’s the center of his world right now, his mouth going above and beyond to really solidify that feeling. Aizen rests a hand on top of his head just because he can, the pressure in his gut growing heavier and hotter as Renji licks over and around his clit, laving it with his tongue before sucking hard enough to make Aizen’s spine bow.

Byakuya’s breath hitches and Aizen watches him shoves his fingers between his lips, teeth digging into his own knuckles as he struggles to keep quiet. The other arm is wrapped around his own middle like he’s holding himself back, his eyes boring into the two of them.

Renji doesn’t even seem to notice, too caught up in pressing his tongue as deep inside of Aizen as he can get it, fucking the slick length of it in and out of Aizen’s body. It feels too good and Aizen moans, pulling Renji a little closer, his thighs trembling from the incredible sensation.

When Renji licks up over his clit again he comes, a soft little cry leaving his lips as his body tenses and spasms. Renji doesn’t stop, working Aizen through his orgasm obediently, eyes intent on him. Then, with very gentle strokes of his tongue, he cleans up the mess he’s made out of Aizen before leaning back to sit on his heels.

Very slowly, Aizen presses his thighs together. “Thank you, Renji. That was wonderful.”

“An admirable job.” Byakuya drops down to his knees behind Renji, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck as his hands move to quickly unfasten Renji’s jeans, freeing his cock from the denim, slim fingers curling around it and stroking hard and fast. “Come for me now, sub.”

Renji comes with an ugly choked noise, his eyes rolling back in his head as he spills wet and hot over Byakuya’s fingers. Quietly, Aizen watches the two of them, watches as Renji falls back into Byakuya’s waiting arms, Byakuya whispering soft and soothing things in his ear as Renji comes down from it all. And then Renji sees Aizen watching them and smiles tiredly at him, holding out a hand that still quivers from the force of his orgasm. Without hesitation, Aizen takes it, and Renji draws him down onto the floor and into his own waiting arms.

He can taste himself on Renji’s tongue when he kisses him and Renji moans softly against his mouth, lets Aizen have control of the kiss as he falls back against Byakuya’s chest. When Aizen leans away, Byakuya has him by the chin, drawing him in for another kiss, tongue sweeping between his lips with his intentions clear. Aizen squirms at the thought of Byakuya trying to taste him on his own lips, but he knows how Byakuya is. He’s always been this way.

The thought is amusing. Most people assumed Aizen was the more sexually brazen of the two of them, but they could not have been more wrong in that assumption.

“We’re unoccupied today, Renji,” Byakuya says, and Renji makes a noise of interest, turning to nuzzle against the side of his throat. “If you’d like to stay for the day, you may.”

“I’m fine with that,” Aizen says before Renji can ask.

The dark sparkle in Renji’s eyes is exciting. “Then damn straight I’m going to stay the day.”

Aizen runs his fingers through Renji’s hair, snapping the elastic band in his hair so that a riot of red falls around his shoulders. “Good. Because I’d like to see you do that with Byakuya soon.”

Afternoon bleeds into evening, unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just an insight into aizen and byakuya's marriage and their complex little set-up with renji. these three all love each other, it's just a generally longer process w/ aizen because he's been through some shit. but they're happy aww. more grimmjow and ulquiorra in the next chapter~


	3. dinner and an upcoming show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** some vague mentions of transphobia-related issues
> 
>  **sexual content:** it's all talk but there's a lot of discussion and blunt details

When Ulquiorra agreed to accompany Grimmjow on a dinner date with Aizen a few nights after the incident at Las Noches, the last place he expected to find himself was in a private dining room in a swanky restaurant like Hueco Mundo. Aizen is already there when they are escorted inside and not for the first time, Ulquiorra pauses to admit to himself that Aizen is, admittedly, unfairly attractive. It makes it difficult to erect a proper barrier between the two of them, which is what he is determined to do in order to make sure he can keep an eye on Grimmjow and ensure his safety. The welts have healed well and there is no residual pain that Grimmjow will admit to, but Ulquiorra is still not entirely onboard with this entire situation.

He knows that the situation that occurred with Kurotsuchi Mayuri was not the norm for a club like Las Noches and had been careful to comb through the club’s history during the time he had to rethink his stance on everything. There were no prior incidents on record, which led him to believe that they must handle their issues internally to make sure that any harm is minimized, removing those who would abuse their power before they can harm someone else. By this logic, it only makes sense that Mayuri had been an accident and not the norm, but it is still more than difficult for Ulquiorra to want to see Grimmjow in such a scene once more.

Grimmjow had been huffy and downright pissed at him this morning when he tried to convince him to call this off, that Ulquiorra can go through the necessary training to become a Dominant so he can take care of Grimmjow himself. When he _should_ have been at Grimmjow’s side to ensure his safety, he cased the entirety of Las Noches that was open to him and saw they had such classes available to take, that a man named Muguruma Kensei taught them.

Ulquiorra finally dropped the topic and spent the rest of the day in his home office, bent over his tablet and twirling his bluetooth pen between his fingers as he worked on freelance artwork he had been commissioned to do. Only when it was time to prepare for dinner had he left the office, figuring Grimmjow needed the space after Ulquiorra managed to wind him up. It was unfair on his part, perhaps, but Ulquiorra is _worried_ for his safety and is not sure he wants to sit idly by and risk Grimmjow suffering such pain and humiliation once more.

“I’m glad to see you found the restaurant.” Aizen stands when they approach the table and Ulquiorra takes note of the fine dinnerware, the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice on a small table next to the main dining table. “I hope this is all right. Work has kept me from indulging recently but this called for a special occasion dinner, I believe.”

The remark has Ulquiorra dragging his teeth over his bottom lip before biting down, telling himself not to snark and risk ruining the mood. Instead, he gives his head a quick bow, pulling Grimmjow’s chair out for him by habit before he sits down himself. “It’s a lovely restaurant.”

“I can’t believe you make so much money that this place can be, like, a _favorite_ of yours.” Grimmjow looks around the room, drinking in all of the details with wide and wondering eyes.

Aizen shrugs as he sits back down. “I make a fair amount as a public relations agent.”

“Where do you work?” Ulquiorra asks, trying not to pull a face when Aizen pours them both a glass of champagne, his hands twitching; he balls them up and shoves them under his thighs.

“Shino Entertainment.” Aizen doesn’t need to explain; Ulquiorra’s eye twitches at the sheer size of the name, the weight it carries. Shino Entertainment is the most successful music promotion in Japan currently with more international connections than can be counted at this point. “Byakuya also works there, coincidentally. He serves as a manager for several groups.”

Grimmjow makes a noise of interest, leaning across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Think he can get me backstage to see Nozarashi? Their singer is a fucking _demon._ ”

The corners of Aizen’s lips quirk up in the smallest smile as he lifts his own glass of champagne, one dark brow raised. “If you wanted? Byakuya could arrange that. He manages Nozarashi though I’m sure it’s the last thing Zaraki ever wanted to happen.”

Ulquiorra frowns at the words but does not chase down their meaning.

“I wanted to toast the two of you for coming this far after the conversation we had on Wednesday night. It was very enlightening, and it was a pleasure to share your company.” Aizen waits until the two of them lift their glasses as well, and he only seems to grown all the more confident under the direct attention. “Here’s to hoping that tonight goes well, also. It would be wonderful to spend more time with the two of you.”

They toast to that and Ulquiorra sips his champagne contemplatively, watching Aizen over the rim of the glass before he sets it back down on the table. “I have a few questions to ask.”

“Can we at least order first?” Grimmjow demands, elbowing him in the ribs, prompting a sigh as Ulquiorra slumps back in his chair. “You can start all the drama you want _after_ I put it an order for the biggest size of steak this place is willing to give me.”

When the waiter has collected their orders and left them in peace once more, Aizen leans forward, hands resting on top of the table carefully folded together. “Before I answer your questions, Ulquiorra, I have to tell the two of you something. I wasn’t entirely forthcoming that evening, but to be fair, it can be difficult in any situation, much less the one we were in.”

The wording has Ulquiorra pressing his lips together, but Grimmjow only props his chin up on one hand. “What is it, Aizen? Something come up with your husband after all?”

“Of course not. I spoke to Byakuya about the two of you and he was entirely fine with whatever comes next. It would be hypocritical otherwise, since he has a boyfriend of his own.” The way the words roll off of Aizen’s tongue has Ulquiorra looking twice at him, but he tries to remain calm as he waits for Aizen to get to the point. “This is a much more personal matter.”

 _More personal than what his husband thinks of him adding two more lovers to his life?_ “Well, if it is important for any kind of relationship we might entertain, I would like to hear it.”

“Of course. Your reactions are particularly important to me, so I want you two to be honest with me when I tell you this.” Aizen pauses a beat and Ulquiorra sees Grimmjow cocking his head out of the corner of his eye. “I’m transgender. I doubt I have the anatomy you expect a man to have, and I don’t particularly enjoy having my genitals touched. Blunt enough, I think.”

Instantly, Ulquiorra feels bad, curling in on himself a little, fingers worrying the edge of the tablecloth hanging just above his lap. “It makes no difference to me,” he says truthfully, because such a thing never has. Aizen wouldn’t be the first trans man Ulquiorra has ever known. “You’re allowed to have your limits just like the two of us are.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not into the idea of you tying me up and spanking me.” Grimmjow smirks and Ulquiorra presses his fingers to his eyes, heaving a sigh. “You’re no _fun,_ Quiorra. But nah, Aizen, I don’t mind one way or another. As long as we’re all having fun, that’s all that matters.”

Aizen breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I was worried about… Negative reactions.”

“I imagine you must have had quite a few in your life, so it makes sense to be concerned.” Ulquiorra sits upright in his chair, trying to be as sincere as possible without being overbearing because it isn’t like he’s looking for ally points for having a basic human understanding of the life Aizen has led up until now. “Thank you for trusting us with such information.”

“Of course.” Aizen takes another sip of champagne and Ulquiorra wonders how much he’d been concerned, if he worried they would walk away from him when he told them the truth. For whatever reason, the thought makes his stomach ache a little. “You’ll see the evidence in the bedroom one way or another, I have visible scars. But I was serious about the boundary I’ve set. The only one who I trust to do so is my husband, and we’ve been together for much longer.”

The mention of Byakuya once more prompts Ulquiorra’s memory of him from Wednesday night, soft grey eyes warm with compassion as he rested his hand on Ulquiorra’s shoulder and directed him down the hallway. The quality of his voice suggested he was just as worried as Ulquiorra was about Grimmjow, a benevolent and beautiful man whose image is still having quite a lasting effect on Ulquiorra even now. He’s sure Grimmjow would tease him endlessly about it but Ulquiorra has always been attracted to beautiful men. Consider it his curse.

Grimmjow interrupts his thoughts, stretching a hand across the table, fingers brushing the back of Aizen’s hand very carefully. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not about to bolt on you over something like that. So what if you have scars? You probably saw the nasty scar on my chest when you saved me from that creep. Car accident in high school. Now _that_ was something.”

Aizen chuckles and turns his hand over, his fingers curling around Grimmjow’s own; Ulquiorra stares at the two of them, feeling oddly like he isn’t even in the room anymore. The sensation… Is not unpleasant like he feared it might be, rather somewhat exhilarating like he’s spotting a small moment between lovers, something small and tucked away and not meant to be seen by outside eyes. When did he come into such interests?

“Ulquiorra.” Grimmjow nudges him with his knee and Ulquiorra nods, hoping he didn’t miss a question or something zoned out as he was. “You had some questions for Aizen.”

 _Oh. Right._ “This might sound like a stupid question to begin with, but if I’m going to be watching the two of you to keep an eye on Grimmjow, how am I going to know if something is wrong?”

“The obvious clues are going to be if he safewords out and I were to not stop, not that you have to worry about such a thing from me.” Aizen’s thumb strokes over Grimmjow’s knuckles as he speaks; Ulquiorra thinks he isn’t even aware of it. “You know him better than I do. I’ll be reading his body language as carefully as I can, but you’re bound to notice things that I don’t.”

Without missing a beat, Ulquiorra retrieves his cell phone from his pocket and pulls up his notes app; it isn’t like he came unprepared and he’s not going to walk away from his empty-handed or forgetting anything important. When he hears a soft _ahh_ from across the table, he peeks at Aizen through the black fringe trying to sneak over his eyes.

“You’re taking notes. That’s very good to see.” Aizen rests his jaw against his free hand and his eyes are warm, _no,_ not. They threaten to scorch Ulquiorra all the way through, his mouth dry at the gentle intensity of that gaze. “I’m glad you’re taking this very seriously. Too many people run into this like it’s one big game and never consider how delicate the power play is.”

Ulquiorra adds Aizen’s words to his notes, bobbing his head once in acknowledgment. “It’s very important to me that everyone is happy and no one ends up hurt like last time.”

“It’s important to me, as well. So, what other questions do you have for me?” Aizen asks.

“Where will we be acting out these scenes?” Ulquiorra looks up at him, watching his face carefully as he tries to detect any hint of unease. “I am aware you have a private room at Las Noches and a house, and we have our own apartment as well.”

Aizen hums softly. “Las Noches would give you plenty of people if you thought you needed someone to come in and stop me, which I believe is the concern you are quietly masking?”

“I think I can easily fight you off and restrain you if need be,” Ulquiorra says thinly, offering Aizen a slight smile when Aizen makes another soft _ahh_ of intrigue. “But I would prefer either a neutral location to begin with, or you give us home field advantage for our own personal comfort. Grimmjow even told me himself he’d be more comfortable if we started at home.”

“Yeah, well.” Grimmjow rubs the back of his neck, his hand visibly spasming in Aizen’s gentle grip. “Just, like, it’s home? No offense to your club, it seems great, but I wanna maybe stay away for the first few times if you don’t mind. We don’t live that far from it.”

“We live in a residential area not far from the city,” Ulquiorra supplies.

Aizen nods, giving Grimmjow’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Of course we can do it at your home if that’s what you prefer. We’ll discuss each scene so I’ll know what to bring with me when I visit, and I can throw in a few extras if minds are changed. Does that sound appropriate?”

“I want to know what you bring into our home,” Ulquiorra says firmly. “Grimmjow doesn’t have to know if you want to surprise him because I know that’s an aspect of some scenes, but at the very least I want to know. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Of course it is. I’m not _trying_ to hurt him. I understand why you might mistrust me, but all of your questions and requests are quite simple to fulfill.” Aizen holds out his other hand and Ulquiorra eyes it quietly, not sure how to respond, but he finally breaks and sets his hand on top of Aizen’s, surprised at how soft the man’s hands are. “I want this to work for all of us. I want all three of us to enjoy the experience and be satisfied with it. I want to be able to assist you, Grimmjow, in exploring all of your boundaries and interests in a safe and healthy environment. As long as we are forthcoming with one another and there is clear communication and trust, everything will go just fine. You can trust me on that front, as I have the experience.”

The waiter chooses that moment to talk in and they take their hands back so they can eat; Ulquiorra ordered fish and has to admit the skin looks crisp and the flesh beneath tender enough to fall apart in his mouth. Still, he rolls his eyes when Grimmjow immediately attacks his steak, spilling red-tinted juice all of the plate when he cuts it.

For a few minutes, they sit in silence as they eat, and then Aizen asks Grimmjow about _his_ job as a personal trainer in the city, and they make casual conversation while Ulquiorra watches the two of them. He almost forgets he’s eating at all, too caught up in their interplay, in watching their expressions and Grimmjow’s erratic hand movements the more animated he becomes as the conversation continues. While most people have scoffed at his job being something so simple, Ulquiorra has seen up close and personal just how much it means to Grimmjow to be able to help and assist the people who come to him each day.

Ulquiorra likes his job fairly well, and freelance graphic design work pays him more than a fair amount so they live comfortably and want for nothing. But the job feels a lot less personal than what Grimmjow does, and he’s always amazed when he comes to the gym to pick Grimmjow up, or to eat lunch with him, and sees the way he interacts with people. His warm and personable nature seems to stretch out and touch everyone like the heat of the sun.

When Aizen’s attention shifts to him, Ulquiorra freezes, a bite of fish halfway to his lips. “What do you do, Ulquiorra? I apologize if it seems as though we were excluding you from the conversation, that was never meant to be the intention.”

 _Are you always such a perfect gentleman, Aizen Sosuke?_ “No apology necessary, I was enjoying listening to the two of you. I’m a freelance graphic designer.”

“Quiorra’s work is all over the city even though you wouldn’t realize it. He’s done logos and character designs and all sorts of shit.” The pride in Grimmjow’s voice makes Ulquiorra feel warm all the way through and his cheeks heat just a little when Grimmjow looks at him, his eyes brimming with joy. “That’s how we met. Gym owner contacted Ulquiorra about redesigning our logo ‘cause we did a relaunch with a focus on personal development and growth.”

Ulquiorra nods, remembering the chance meeting very fondly. “I was sitting at the juice bar waiting for my appointment and going through my work email when you asked me what classes I was taking to have an ass as firm and tight as I do.”

Aizen chokes on his chicken and reaches for his napkin, quickly blotting his lips with it. “Sorry, I was taken aback. You’re a very forward person, then, Grimmjow. I’m impressed.”

“I saw a hot guy and I took a shot. Anyone who has a brain would have been smart enough to do the same.” Grimmjow points his fork in Ulquiorra’s direction, his gaze turning mischievous. “You looked at me like you wanted to throttle me. I was so fucking horrified when I found out you were there to work with the boss. I was like, oh, there goes my job out the window.”

“The look on your face was priceless. A thousand different emotions all at once as soon as your boss walked through the door. You were _sure_ I was going to tell him.” Ulquiorra pops his bite of fish into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully; the sheer _panic_ on Grimmjow’s face made the entire meeting worthwhile. “When I came out of his office, I asked you for your phone number.”

Grimmjow beams at him. “Here I was thinking you were about to chew me out but you were into me. I couldn’t believe it! And we’ve been together, fuck, ever since then.”

“That’s very sweet, actually,” Aizen muses.

Quietly, Ulquiorra glances in his direction. “How did you meet Byakuya?”

“It’s far less romantic. The two of us were involved in the LGBT organization at our university for want of having any other way to express ourselves. It wasn’t always easy like it is now.” Aizen is quiet, staring into his glass of champagne, his gaze lost; Ulquiorra wants to take the question back but he smiles then, sits up in his chair. “I didn’t know anyone there, but Byakuya had been enough times that he did. He introduced me to the others and made sure I was comfortable in the space. We just… Clicked. And starting dating about a month later.”

Grimmjow’s expression is soft as he stares across the table. “That’s really sweet, though. Like, maybe it’s not everyone’s meet-cute, but it sounds like you found each other when you needed each other, yeah? And that’s a hell of a lot more important than anything else.”

“That’s true. We supported each other through university and on into our futures. And after we’d been comfortable and had our jobs and were thinking about getting a house… He proposed.” Aizen’s smile widens and Ulquiorra’s heart maybe skips half a beat at the sight. Maybe he’ll just die at this dinner tonight. “It was unexpected. We had dinner out to talk over a few houses and when I looked away for just a moment, he was asking me to marry him. Of course I said yes.”

“Of course,” Grimmjow echoes softly, thoughtfully.

Aizen nods, turning back to his food once more. “We’d been together for years at that point. We were going to move into a house together. It just felt like the most logical step to take. And there was never going to be anyone else in the world who could win my heart like he did.”

“And then Abarai Renji came into the picture,” Ulquiorra adds as an afterthought.

Next to him, Grimmjow tenses up and shoots him a dirty look, but Ulquiorra only raises his eyebrows at him in return. When he had seen the two together at Las Noches, he assumed they were any other Dominant and submissive pair and had not considered for a moment that Byakuya was married to a different man until he had been told as much. Though Ulquiorra knows of a handful of people who live in open relationships, so many of those had been born through improper means. He doesn’t want them to get caught in the crossfire of someone else’s failing marriage if he can afford to keep them as far away from it as possible.

If that makes him cruel, then so be it. Ulquiorra will be cruel.

“It isn’t like you think it is,” Aizen says, and Ulquiorra looks at him, measures the softness in his eyes and the fondness in his smile. “Byakuya and I both like to be dominant in the bedroom. We could only compromise so much before we first went to Las Noches. Opening our marriage seemed like a perfect answer to our problem. And there was Renji.”

“Is he just, like, Byakuya’s sub, then?” Grimmjow asks, kicking at Ulquiorra’s ankle under the table even though his expression remains almost innocent.

Almost. Ulquiorra bites down on a carrot and kicks him back.

“He is Byakuya’s submissive and his boyfriend. He’s very affectionate and loving where I am concerned, as well, though we don’t have a label for our interactions.” That far-off and distant look enters Aizen’s eyes again but there’s something so warm about his voice that Ulquiorra can only interpret it one way. He clearly cares about Renji, too.

Ulquiorra clears his throat and Aizen’s gaze snaps to him. “Grimmjow and I are looking for a sexual partner, not a romantic partner. Is such a thing fine with you? We aren’t looking to be your equivalent of what Renji is to Byakuya. This is simply… A supplement.”

“What a romantic fucking way to look at things,” Grimmjow says plainly.

“I admire pragmatism and those who know what they want and are upfront about it.” Aizen’s smile is… Strange now, an edge to it that Ulquiorra doesn’t quite understand but one that makes his hand curl in the fabric of his pants below the table. “I reassure you that I am not looking for a romantic relationship, either. I’m quite satisfied in that department. However, I am more than willing to supplement your sex lives. It functions in a similar way for me.”

“Then we’re all agreed on that front.” Ulquiorra is relieved. When Aizen had mentioned having an open marriage, his gut reaction was that the _last_ thing he wanted was to share Grimmjow romantically. Sex, he can negotiate on. When it comes to who has the privilege of waking up next to Grimmjow each morning, of holding him during vulnerable moments and sharing in bliss with him, Ulquiorra has the market firmly cornered. He has no plans to share. “I suppose my last question then is… When would you like to begin this arrangement?”

Next to him, Grimmjow tenses all over, his breath coming out sudden and sharp and if Ulquiorra could tear his gaze away from Aizen’s own, he has no doubt Grimmjow is staring at him. When they had left their apartment to come here, Ulquiorra had been quiet about his thoughts and feelings as far as going through with it after all, figuring that the dinner conversation would either set him at ease or harden his resolve to keep Grimmjow as far away from this man as possible. But Aizen’s answers have been what Ulquiorra wants to hear, and he thinks he might be able to trust this man with Grimmjow’s body for at least a single evening.

And if he has to take Aizen down to protect Grimmjow, then so be it. He can do that.

“I work a normal nine to five day unless I have emergencies and while my nights are generally free, I tend to keep them for time spent with Byakuya.” Aizen retrieves his cell phone and Ulquiorra watches him, fork pressed into his lower lip as he waits. “This weekend has been reserved for Renji, he’s come to spend a few nights. But I have another free night on Thursday, if you’re interested. It’s a bit away, but it should give you time to think about things and give us all a chance to discuss what we can try for our first scene.”

Grimmjow whips out his phone; Ulquiorra has no need, his schedule as flexible as he needs it to be. “I think Thursday is open for me, too. Nothing _too_ strenuous if you can manage, though, I’ve got a client on Friday morning and I want to make sure I can handle anything I need to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Aizen starts to pocket his phone, then stops. “We should exchange phone numbers, and I think a group chat would let us speak freely enough.”

Ulquiorra offers Aizen his phone to plug his information in, finishing his fish and blotting his lips clean with a napkin before finishing off his glass of champagne. He’s only had two so far and that is all he plans on drinking, wanting to be clear-headed for the drive home and, well… Grimmjow is going to be wound up when they make it home, and Ulquiorra wants to be ready to handle that. He can be overwhelming in the best way when he gets wound up.

Contact information exchanged and group chat established, they can all finally pocket their phones and Ulquiorra sets his fork down on his plate, wondering if he wants to put his last card on the table or not. It’s the card he’s been keeping to himself, not even sharing just yet with Grimmjow because he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it until now. Isn’t sure if he feels one hundred percent certain of this decision, this experience too new and this world too hazy around the edges for him to have certainty. It’s not easy to feel like this.

“There is one more question I have.” He shifts his attention to the bottle of champagne, the ice bucket, anywhere to avoid Aizen’s eyes. “Should I decide I don’t want to just watch—”

Aizen interrupts him. “But you want to participate, how would we proceed? You would tell me what aspect you want to join in on, and we work on that. If you want to dominate Grimmjow alongside me, I can instruct you. I’ve trained other dominants before. If you want to submit alongside Grimmjow, I can handle two submissives as I’ve done so before. One particular sub at Las Noches, the one I first trained with, would be an excellent teacher.”

Ulquiorra can feel Grimmjow’s eyes boring into him and decides not to look his way. “I see. Those are all of the questions I had for you, and your answers have been satisfactory.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Aizen retrieves a credit card from his wallet and tucks it into the small leather folder on the table, rolling his eyes when Grimmjow makes a noise at him. “Stop that right this instant. I chose the restaurant, I can pay for it. You can pay if there is a next time.”

Aizen sees them out to their car and Grimmjow bounds up to him like an excited puppy, hovering near him almost enough to touch but not quite before just insinuating himself into Aizen’s personal space while Ulquiorra sighs at him. It’s not hard to see what Grimmjow wants and Aizen even seems to, finger curling beneath Grimmjow’s chin to hold him still, and it’s almost _pitiful_ how Grimmjow closes his eyes and waits for the kiss he’s certain he’ll get.

“Say please, Grimmjow,” Aizen murmurs, and his voice is _rich_.

Ulquiorra freezes beside their car, watching Grimmjow’s eyelashes flutter and there’s _something_ in the quality of his expression that makes it hard to breathe, suddenly.

“Please can I have a kiss, Aizen?” Grimmjow asks, his voice a soft and husky purr.

Aizen hums and leans in to kiss him, a warm kiss that Grimmjow seems to melt against while Ulquiorra plays with the keys and tries to ignore the uncomfortable tightness at the front of his pants. When Aizen opens the car door for Grimmjow, he slides in with a giddy smile on his face.

And then Aizen advances past the door to where Ulquiorra hovers near the back of the vehicle, not having walked around it fully. His fingers curl in the collar of Ulquiorra’s sweater and it makes every muscle in Ulquiorra’s body tremble in response.

“I haven’t agreed to submit to you,” he reminds Aizen for lack of anything better to say.

Instead of taking offense, Aizen smiles sweetly down at him. “I know that. I look forward to discovering what choice you make, Ulquiorra. Have a good evening with your boyfriend.”

“I will.” Ulquiorra hesitates, presses his lips into a line. “I will not say _please._ ”

The sweet smile hardens into a smirk, Aizen’s fingers slipping away from his collar. “Who said I was offering? I’ll be seeing you on Thursday night.”

Before he can walk past, Ulquiorra seizes him by the wrist. “ _Fine._ Please, may I have a kiss?”

He doesn’t know why he cares. He shouldn’t.

Aizen presses him up against the car and kisses him so hard and fast and sudden that Ulquiorra’s head is spinning when he leans back, thumb dragging along the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth. “Good evening. If you take him home and decide to fuck him to ease the frustration, then I hope you tell me some of the details the next time we meet. Until then.”

He leaves and Ulquiorra watches him go before finally getting into the car, jamming his key into the ignition so hard that Grimmjow whistles. “Stop that. I’m fine. But when we get home, I’m bending you over the first flat surface I find. If you want the bed, you better sprint for it.”

When he looks across the car, Grimmjow is watching him with wild eyes, his face clearly flushed now, lips pulling back over his teeth. “The hood of the car is flat.”

Ulquiorra considers, then nods once. “You are correct. The hood is flat.”

And the dark blue will compliment Grimmjow oh so nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like these chapters being frequent and so long is outright going to drive me insane as the month continues but i've been really enjoying writing this so far and i absolutely love the dynamic between these three so much. i have no idea where this is going next so we're all going to be surprised.
> 
> but do me a favor and guess in the comments, if you can, the submissive that aizen trained with when he first became a dominant. it's not someone who's been mentioned yet in the story.


	4. a conversation with an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
>  **sexual content:** bdsm elements. collaring/leashing. explicit sexual content. heavy petting. rimming. anal sex. all very consensual.

Renji shows up on Friday afternoon and Aizen leaves the house on Saturday evening, his thoughts about Ulquiorra and Grimmjow muddled enough that he needs to leave the warm sanctity of his home so he can gain some perspective. When he gets into the car, he realizes he never thought of a destination and would likely have driven for hours if not for the slight pause. The next second, his cell phone is in his hand, his fingers tapping out a quick message to the one person who might be able to offer him a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen to him.

 _Are you busy tonight? I’ll understand if you are._ He waits for an answer, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Depending on the answer, he has two locations in mind. Either he drives to Las Noches and talks to the one person who might be able to lend him some helpful thoughts about the situation, or he just drives until he comes to a conclusion on his own. He doesn’t _want_ to do the latter, used to being able to bounce ideas off of people— it’s something he does at work and he, Byakuya, and Halibel have their own system— but he will if he has to.

 _I’m always busy, Sosuke-chan~._ The first line has him rolling his eyes even as a grin tugs at his mouth. _But I can make time for you, so come into work and see me._

With that reply, Aizen pockets his cell phone, starts his car, and heads for Las Noches.

He and Byakuya typically show up on the weekends if they have no other plans made and if Renji happens to not be at the house, but Aizen had no real intentions of dropping in and doubts Halibel really needs his presence as much as she pretends to. He and Byakuya has degrees and experience but she makes most of the business decisions for Las Noches, depending on them for different aspects of the job, and the three of them work well as a team. But most nights she can handle things on her own and holds the club down through sheer willpower.

Tonight is Saturday and that means the parking lot is brimming and ready to burst but Aizen has a reserved parking spot and they’ve towed enough cars for not paying attention to signs that no one dares risk it anymore. Halibel’s car is there, of course, and he dusts a few errant leaves off of the hood as he walks by, a bounce already entering his step as he reaches the door.

“Hi, Aizen-sama.” Yammy nods to him as he steps aside, granting Aizen entrance into the club. “Thought you’d be laid up all weekend with Renji coming by and all.”

“No, Yammy, not this time. He and Byakuya are going to enjoy their evening, and I’m going to enjoy mine.” _More_ than enjoy give who he’s come to see tonight. “Thank you for watching the front, as always. You do an excellent job at keeping people out.”

Las Noches is set up unlike most general night clubs though they do have a dance floor and a bar that anyone can enter as they see fit. The dungeon-aspect of the club is fiercely guarded by a pair of young women that Halibel brought in specifically because while they seem cute and harmless enough to be approachable to most people, neither of them has ever taken any bullshit that Aizen can remember. They can be as intimidating as Yammy.

“Hi, Sosuke!” Loly waves to him from behind the desk, the guest book immediately appearing on the glossy wooden counter in front of her. “You know the rules. Sign in, date and time.”

“Of course. It’s lovely to see you two this evening.” The guest book rule had been Menoly’s idea, a way to keep track of everyone who enters the dungeon and when they leave to make sure they have evidence should anything ever go wrong. “How have things been tonight?”

“It’s early, so no one’s tried to cause any trouble yet. Apacci already had Yammy throw out one guy for getting way too drunk, though,” Menoly says, and Aizen makes a noise of understanding. Halibel also picked specific women for the staff, women she could trust.

All in all, her hires have been excellent choices. None of the women under her care have ever let the customers walk all over them, and having them here makes the establishment feel safer to women who would have been more uncomfortable in a male-dominated space. It was one of Halibel’s priorities and concerns when they came together to create Las Noches alongside the idea of making sure their own community felt welcomed, and they had done their best to make sure that was upheld here. No one should ever have to feel unsafe.

Loly props her chin up on her hand, raising her eyebrows. “You here alone tonight, huh?”

“I’ve come to see someone. What about you two? Are you going to be heading down to the dungeon at any point tonight?” Aizen asks, looking between the two of them curiously.

“If Sung-Sun spots us out any tonight, then we might,” Loly answers easily enough, and when she tilts her head, the ornaments in her long pigtails jingle softly. She raises an eyebrow at Menoly, her smile edging toward a smirk. “Sound like a plan to you?”

Menoly grins back at her, just as openly lascivious. “I really don’t see why not.”

“I’ll mention to Halibel that you’d like a reprieve tonight when I go down.” Aizen double checks the date on his phone to make sure it’s correct. “My, winter is sneaking up on us this year.”

“We doing anything for a Christmas party?” Menoly asks, turning to look up at him.

Aizen considers before rolling his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but most likely. We do every year, but we haven’t discussed the finer details yet. I’ll let you know as soon as we have, though.”

“Thank you, Sosuke.” Loly winks at him. “You’re one of the only men I even like.”

Aizen bids the two farewell and heads down the hallway, a stretch of barely-lit darkness that opens into a spiral staircase that spills into the dungeon of Las Noches. Unlike the upper half of the establishment open to the public, the dungeon has much stricter guidelines that might need to be revisited and tightened further to make sure no other creeps slip through the cracks. The guest book system makes sure they know who is where at all times and there are enough cameras to deter most people trying to take advantage of others, carefully monitored by another hire of Halibel’s, a charming young woman named Mila Rose whose shrewd eye for predators meant that they had no incidents balloon into unfixable tragedies.

Aizen should have Halibel screen the next few Dominants just in case. She seems to have a better eye for those they can trust more than anyone else, and he has no doubt they can trust whoever she brings in. None of her hires have been anything less than trustworthy.

The woman herself is draped across one of the couches, a glass of wine in one hand and a familiar woman sitting on the couch in front of her, legs neatly crossed even as she leans back to say something. Halibel laughs and shakes her head; her green eyes slide up and meet Aizen’s, and she waves a hand toward him, gesturing him closer. In front of her, Shiba Kukaku tilts her head, then straightens up just slightly. Most tend to, in Aizen’s presence.

“Good evening, Halibel.” Aizen bows his head to her, his gaze sliding to the woman sitting before her. “Are you keeping her company on this lovely evening, sub?”

Undeterred by the slight purr in his voice, Kukaku beams up at him. “Hell yes, Sir.”

“Nice to see you so unexpectedly, Sosuke. Byakuya told me you were having company this weekend, so I thought I’d be on my own.” Halibel sits up to speak to him, the wine in her glass still even with the movement; her body control and grace has always mystified him.

Unlike him, who came in a button-down and jeans because he’d been lounging around his house without much thought of actually coming here, Halibel is dressed to the nines and she no doubt knows just how eye-catching her outfit is. The black jacket she wears is a corset up top, her breasts seemingly balanced precariously atop the laces even though it’s clear they also aren’t going anywhere, the leather flared open at the waist over a pair of black leather shorts that cling to her skin and end at the tops of her thighs. It’s all bare skin up until her knees, more black leather with deadly heels. The jacket also has a hood, which is rather cute, resting loosely on top of her rich golden hair. The contrast is beautiful; Aizen has an eye for color palettes.

“It was an unexpected trip to make. I didn’t know until after I was in the car that I was coming down here. Also, Loly and Menoly would like to come downstairs, so if Sung-Sun can spare time to spot them, they’d like that.” Aizen tilts his head, eyes searching the dark corners of the dungeon, searching for the head of blond hair he knows has to be here tonight.

Halibel hums in acknowledgment and Aizen fixes his gaze on her once more. “She should be able to once she finishes the shibari class she’s giving. Who are you looking for? I can probably tell you where they are. No one’s come in and escaped my notice tonight.”

Chuckling softly, Aizen turns back to her. “Sorry to seem disinterested in conversation. I just came here with a very specific goal in mind tonight.”

“No worries.” Halibel holds up a finger, takes a sip of her wine, and then meets his eyes with a direct intensity that surprises him. “What happened with the blue-haired submissive that Mayuri injured? I know you were with him after the fact, but Renji implied you’ve been with him _more._ ”

 _Oh, so Renji’s been spreading some interesting gossip around._ It’s not exactly surprising, more amusing than anything else. Las Noches is not about keeping secrets. “Grimmjow is still adamant about exploring submission, and I offered my services. We had a dinner date during the week to discuss things further, but it won’t be until next week when we can see each other.”

Halibel raises her glass as if in a toast. “Good luck with that. Mila Rose showed me what happened on camera after the fact in case Mayuri came back and we needed to get more involved in the situation. He’s a pretty boy. It’s a disappointment this happened to him.”

“Agreed. But I plan on giving him a more memorable experience.” A flash of gold in Aizen’s peripheral vision draws his attention elsewhere. “Ah, I see Shinji. He’s who I’m looking for.”

At this, Halibel whistles. “Have a good night, Sosuke. Let me know if you need anything.”

She returns to lounging, her free hand coming to rest lightly on top of Kukaku’s head while Aizen drifts across the dungeon to where Shinji is talking to a man Aizen knows well; Ichimaru Gin sees him coming and offers a lazy wave in answer. At his feet, Kira Izuru kneels properly, his head bowed, a leather leash attached to the collar around his throat while the other end is wrapped securely around Gin’s long fingers. Even with his years of experience by the time Gin came along, Aizen never quite saw this development coming until it came.

Gin pats Shinji on top of the head and Shinji beams at him before both of them turn in Aizen’s direction, Gin curling one long finger in the open V of Aizen’s shirt. “Hi there, Sosuke.”

“Good evening, Gin.” The two of them have admittedly had more fun together than Aizen’s had with most people in Las Noches; Gin’s submissive streak had landed him in Aizen’s bed more often than not, and their sexual chemistry was high. “Rangiku’s not here tonight?”

“She is,” Gin says, thumbing over his shoulder toward the private rooms behind them. “Izuru just showed up, so I came to get him before we retired for the night. You wanna join us?”

Aizen shakes his head, stretching out a hand to curl it around the back of Shinji’s neck; the man’s pupils dilate almost as soon as Aizen touches his skin, the starch running out of his muscles. He’s pliant when he’s like this, soft to the touch. “I have an appointment with Shinji.”

“Ah.” Gin smiles at him, then strokes Kira’s hair. “We should play together soon, then.”

The offer is very clear, the _we_ is not limited to the two of them. “Of course. I’ll make sure time in my schedule can be opened up. Maybe Byakuya would even let me borrow Renji.”

There’s a flash of sky blue eyes as Gin’s grin deepens and Kira’s entire body twitches, his head pressing up into Gin’s palm. “I think we’d both like very much if you could.”

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I have available time.” Aizen waits for Gin’s nod before he steps forward, his free hand brushing down Kira’s cheek, fingers catching him under the chin to tilt his head up. Even just like this he’s gone, his gaze soft and fuzzy, his eyelids fluttering at the gentle attention paid to him. “Have a good night, Kira. You look very lovely.”

It takes Kira a moment to answer, his face flushing sweet pink. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Shall we, Shinji?” Aizen flexes his hand and Shinji makes a small noise in his direction.

He keeps his hand on the back of Shinji’s neck as he leads him down the hallway toward his private room, his fingers pressing just hard enough against Shinji’s skin to serve as an anchor. Not that Shinji would try to leave his side right now; he’s clearly already enjoying himself before anything has ever happened, the promise enough to excite him. Though Shinji isn’t a true submissive, he spends most of his time with the Dominants of Las Noches and complains often that there are no subs that really draw his interest enough for him to step into a Dominant role.

As soon as Aizen shuts the door behind them, Shinji melts to his knees, head tipped forward, thighs spread wide. He’s just in shorts tonight that look painted on more than actual fabric, tight enough that Aizen can visibly see he isn’t wearing anything else underneath them.

And just the slightest manhandling was enough to thoroughly arouse him, by the looks of it.

“That’s a pretty picture.” When Aizen had first met Shinji, in the very beginning, his hair had been long, but he’d cut it abruptly within a week just long enough to brush the very tops of his shoulders when he moves his head. “Look at me, Shinji, and give me a color.”

“Green, Aizen-sama.” Shinji smirks at him with the address, though his breath comes out in a half-gasp when Aizen’s gaze hardens. “My apologies, Sir.”

Shinji had been the first submissive Aizen ever touched, the one who carefully guided him with more experience and knowledge than Aizen had been smart enough to grasp at the time. Though Shinji’s training methods were far from what most considered to be the norm, he was a delight to spend time with and Aizen thoroughly enjoyed their time together. Enjoyed it enough to come back, though he isn’t the only one. Every single Dominant in Las Noches who enjoyed the company of men had been with Shinji at least one time, and many of them came back for more because he was, without fail, one of the most pleasing subs possible.

He gets more out of it than most do, that much Aizen knows to be true, but he never quite knows why that is. He doesn’t press for information. If Shinji wants him to know why, then Shinji will tell him. Otherwise, Shinji will slam down boundaries and walls and tease and torment him until he forgets he was even asking, the most innocent form of manipulation possible.

“You’re forgiven.” Aizen steps closer to him, one foot between his parted thighs, his hand slipping through Shinji’s soft golden hair to pull his head in close. It doesn’t take much, Shinji scrubbing his cheek against Aizen’s thigh like a cat seeking attention. “Good boy.”

Shinji’s hand drifts toward the cuff of his jeans, brown eyes pleading. “May I, Sir?”

“Yes, sub.” Aizen brushes straight-cut bangs off of Shinji’s forehead, always a little touched by how Shinji luxuriates in every touch, every brush. “But behave yourself.”

He is sure Shinji would have anyway, his face pressed to Aizen’s thigh once more, eyelids fluttering shut as he wraps his arms around Aizen’s leg. The closeness and intimacy of the touch is not lost on Aizen but it’s about as close as Shinji ever gets to opening up to him and so he drinks in it, the way Shinji’s lithe body feels pressed against him like this.

Though it would be egotistical to say so, Aizen thinks he might be the only man allowed to see Shinji in such a state. He’s certainly never heard of the others describing this moment.

“Breathe, sub.” His fingers sift through Shinji’s hair once more until Shinji’s breathing is slow and even, until he can feel Shinji’s chest moving easy against his leg. “Very good. On the bed.”

Shinji moves with more grace than should be allowed in his excitement, long limbs clambering up onto the mattress before he sprawls out on his back, head cushioned by the pillows. Aizen watches him go as he unbuttons his shirt, shrugging out of it and folding it in half before setting it on the trunk at the foot of the bed, the one where he keeps all of his toys. He doesn’t need any of them at the moment but will likely retrieve at least one by the end of the night.

As soon as he comes to kneel on the mattress in just his jeans and socks, Shinji parts his thighs, offers a place for Aizen to sit. And he takes it, laughing when Shinji’s legs wrap around his waist just to hold onto him. “So, Sir,” Shinji chirps, “why’d you want to see me tonight?”

“Can’t I just come to see you?” Aizen’s hands come to rest on Shinji’s bare thighs, the skin there warm and soft to the touch, fingers ruffling the blond hairs there. He laughs when Shinji presses his lips into a line, eyebrows raised at him. “All right. I did want to talk about something.”

When his fingers trail up and down Shinji’s thighs, barely touching, Shinji sighs and melts back into the pillows, all loose muscles and relaxation. “That’s what I thought. Go ahead and tell me what’s going on, but don’t stop touching me if you don’t mind, Sir. This is nice.”

“Of course I won’t.” Touching Shinji is the best way to keep grounded, Aizen has learned; the bond between them is powerful even now, and his mind and body always seem to center themselves with Shinji, with the man who taught him how to do it properly. “I’ll be doing a scene with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra in the coming week, and I find myself a bit nervous about it.”

“Oh, the pretty blue-haired man and his emo boyfriend.” Shinji folds his hands behind his head, looking perfectly at home here. “Pretty boys, just your type really. Why are you nervous?”

The question earns an eye roll. “The obvious, really. Ulquiorra’s expecting the worst, I believe, because of what happened with Mayuri. I worry that Grimmjow will clam up at the slightest hint of discomfort. I’m working with people who already have reason to distrust me.”

“That can be difficult. But there’s something else bothering you, Sir,” Shinji presses.

 _You haven’t lost your touch at all, Shinji._ “Ulquiorra doesn’t want this to work. For all he says about wanting to do this for Grimmjow, he wants it to fail. Or he wants to train as a Dominant himself and handle everything on his own. Grimmjow doesn’t seem to want the same.”

“Oh boy.” Shinji drapes an arm over his eyes and Aizen watches him, the steady rise and fall of his slender but strong chest. “Lack of communication never fails to amaze me, Sir. Imagine walking into a dynamic like BDSM and not being able to talk to each other.”

“It’s more likely than you’d think these days. I don’t want to push both of them at the same time, but the situation is begging.” Aizen thumbs over the skin just below the bottom of Shinji’s shorts.

He can’t see Shinji’s eyes but he can see his lips, watches Shinji wet them before he bites down on the lower one, releasing it as such a torturously slow pace that Aizen _throbs_ in want. Even without trying, Shinji is more alluring than most. “I’m sorry, Sir, but this is dumb. If he didn’t want Grimmjow to explore this with other people, he just should have said that outright.”

“I think he’s conflicted. I think he enjoys the idea of watching as much as he doesn’t.” Aizen’s hands slide down the length of Shinji’s thighs, thumbs massaging the skin lightly until he coaxes a soft sigh from Shinji’s mouth. “He watched us hold hands at dinner and I think he enjoyed that. He wasn’t listening to the conversation when he was watching us. It was peculiar for someone who comes off as very cerebral and well-spoken otherwise.”

He’d noticed the moment Ulquiorra’s beautiful viridian gaze grew soft and dreamy around the edges, his eating more muscle memory than actual enjoyment of his meal as he watched the two of them. Though his eyes had tracked every movement and touch, he was disconnected from the world around him and had to be drawn back into it, gently and tenderly.

It was like watching a submissive slip sweetly into subspace. Aizen was struck at the sight.

Shinji peeks at him from beneath his arm, eyes soft and warm like sun-drenched mahogany. “Confused, Sir,” he says, pale brows furrowed. “Why’s he wanna be a Dom?”

“He wants to fulfill whatever needs Grimmjow has without considering his own in turn, I believe. He’s very protective of him.” Which, granted, makes sense after Mayuri, but such a personality trait does not arrive so wholly because of one incident.

The description of their first meeting had caught Aizen’s attention, an interesting tidbit into their relationship that had him sitting up and taking notice. Finding out that Grimmjow is just as forward and playful in the rest of his life as he is with his sex life is not exactly a surprise, but that Ulquiorra had been taken with such a display intrigues him. The two of them are such a perfect contradiction that it draws his attention; Grimmjow is loud and carefree and personable while Ulquiorra is quiet and careful and withdrawn. The personality difference fits so well with their physical appearances that it makes them charming, makes Aizen want to see more.

He’s not going to be able to see a damned thing if Ulquiorra shuts all of this down, though.

“Of course he does.” Shinji groans and hides his eyes once more. “Remember when Kira wanted to be a switch, Sir? I almost lost my mind. No one could tell him to back down until Gin finally got him to stop trying to be something he wasn’t. He _likes_ being a sub.”

Aizen remembers; the fact Shinji thought of the same example makes him smile. “Exactly. Ulquiorra might be excellent at Dominance, but rushing right into it will not make anyone happy. We’re going to start with him watching, but I’m worried he’ll hover just the same.”

“That’s exactly what a new sub needs. Someone to hover and ruin the whole experience by making them paranoid and freaking them out.” Shinji scoffs, arching up into Aizen’s hands.

“That’s my major concern. That Ulquiorra is going to interfere, thinking he’s doing it on Grimmjow’s behalf, and he’s going to create a larger mess as a result.” Aizen’s hands slip into the bend of Shinji’s knees, folding them in against his chest so he can rub up under his thighs, hands teasing where his shorts _barely_ cover the curve of his ass. “These shorts are nice, sub.”

The compliment has Shinji breathily sighing for him, thighs parting just a little to accommodate the visible bulge between them. “Thank you, Sir. What are you going to do if he does?”

“I don’t know. Grimmjow trusts him, as he should. Their relationship seems fine. I didn’t see anything wrong with it when we were together. But I think he’s aware that Ulquiorra is smothering him just a little.” And not afraid to voice it. Aizen had noticed that, too. “Color, sub.”

“Green, Sir. Did you give either of them your customary kiss goodbye?” Shinji’s toes curl when Aizen presses a kiss to the muscled curve of his calf, teeth scraping against his skin.

The question has him chuckling; Shinji knows everyone better than they’d ever expect. “I did. Grimmjow asked nicely and Ulquiorra… Almost didn’t, but then he did. When I made it seem like I wasn’t going to give him one since he didn’t ask. And then he did, just like that.”

“I’m not surprised, Sir. You’ve got him confused as hell and he probably doesn’t know what he wants.” Shinji squirms when Aizen’s tongue tickles the band of his knee, his leg twitching and his breathing coming a little harsher. “I mean he already _obviously_ doesn’t know but maybe he told himself if he just sat and watched, that was fine. But now he wants to participate.”

“If he wants to train as a Dominant after he’s gotten his feet wet, would you consider training him?” Aizen presses his fingers into Shinji’s inner thigh, feeling the muscles flutter.

Shinji’s head jerks, his arm finally falling away, a visible flush pink under his skin, his eyes soft and dazed. “Of course, Sir. If that’s what would please you, I would gladly do it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, sub.” Aizen trails his fingers along Shinji’s toned stomach, enjoying the way he breathes, heaving his torso so he can draw Aizen’s fingers along more of his skin. “If he only wants to watch, there’s not much I can do for him. But I don’t think he does. I truly don’t. And I don’t want him to interfere if it’s not necessary and risk ruining the scene.”

“Well, that only gives you one real option to work with,” Shinji says, trembling beneath him.

Aizen cocks his head to the side, fingers curling beneath the waistband of Shinji’s shorts. “What do you think that option is, then? I’m curious.”

“Watch his face. Watch his hands. If he looks like he wants to join in, invite him. Keep him under your thrall though, Sir.” Shinji’s breath catches when Aizen pulls the waistband away from his skin, letting it snap back into place across the tender skin of his lower belly. “If you can keep him under control, he won’t ruin the moment. It’s a delicate balance, but you’re good at that.”

The praise has Aizen smiling softly, a single finger drawing over the bulge in Shinji’s shorts. “Thank you, sub. Now, a reward for your patience and understanding. On your knees for me, but put your shoulders down. I want your ass in the air for me.”

As soon as he moves away, Shinji is fast to comply, dragging a pillow down from the pile for his face while he arches his spine, the offer clear and obvious. The shorts are tight and shiny and go almost transparent across the swell of his ass, a tempting sight. Aizen palms his ass shamelessly, feels the lovely contrast of muscle and softness there and the way Shinji arches into his touch without an ounce of shame. His thumb trails behind Shinji’s balls to feel his cheeks parting beneath the pressure, listen to Shinji keen softly into the pillow for him.

Shinji might know Aizen, but Aizen knows his body well. Could map his reactions with ease.

“Lovely.” He takes his hand away and Shinji whines at the loss, his hips giving a little frustrated wiggle that makes Aizen smile despite himself. “I’m going to rim and then fuck you, if you’re partial, sub. You can even choose which toy I use on you. Give me a color.”

Shinji moans audibly into the pillow. “Green, Sir. Like, bright neon lime green.”

“Very good.” Aizen moves behind him, strokes his hands along Shinji’s sides feather light until his body goes lax under the contact. “Relax for me. I’ll take care of you.”

He tugs the shorts down until the waistband bites into the uppermost part of Shinji’s thighs, leaving just his ass on display and keeping his cock trapped beneath the soft black fabric. Up close and personal he has a beautiful ass and Aizen cups his hip, presses a reverent kiss to one of his cheeks just to feel Shinji shiver beneath him. And then he peppers his ass with kisses, avoiding the cleft between his cheeks until Shinji makes a pitiful mewling noise up at him.

Aizen can be mean, sometimes, but Shinji has been impossibly good to him all his life.

He licks a wet, hot line up from behind Shinji’s balls to the top of his crack, the sudden motion drawing a pitiful twisted sound from Shinji’s lips. It’s a beautiful sound in its strangeness and Aizen smirks at the sound of it, spreads Shinji’s cheeks wide so he can swipe his tongue right over Shinji’s hole, the pink flesh puckered against the flat of his tongue. It only takes a few quick licks to make Shinji fall apart for him, whimpering and whining, fingers tangled in the bedspread.

Aizen traces the edge of his rim with the tip of his tongue before pressing it inside of him, listening to the little gasped choking sounds Shinji always makes when he’s opened up for the first time. By a tongue, by someone else’s fingers or his own, it never much matters. He sounds like it’s a new experience every time and Aizen revels in it, the sounds of his pleasure.

“Very good, sub,” he praises, blowing a cooling breath before Shinji’s wet skin before his tongue delves back in without warning, thrusting inside sudden and wet and hot.

Shinji keens for him and Aizen rewards him for the sounds, thumbs pressing against his perineum, massaging the tender skin there as he fucks Shinji with his tongue, twisting it and curling it inside of him before pulling it out just enough to press back in. He’s gloriously hot inside, his inner walls smooth and welcoming, muscles contracting around Aizen’s tongue and tightening like he doesn’t want Aizen to stop. Of course he doesn’t; Shinji loves having his hole rimmed and it shows when he rolls his hips back, trying to pull Aizen’s tongue in deeper.

He makes a mess out of Shinji ever time, spit slicking his skin and shining in the light of the room. The pucker of his hole contracts every time Aizen strokes over it with his tongue before delving back inside, listening to Shinji’s soft moans and sweet whimpers. He never tries to quiet himself, never restrains a single sound and Aizen _glories_ in listening to him fall apart.

His thumb presses against Shinji’s hole as he laps over his perineum and back up again, sucking against his hole until Shinji whines pitifully and ruts back against Aizen’s mouth. The fact he never makes a grab for his own cock is impressive, his restraint ingrained into every quivering muscle on his slender frame, always waiting and never taking. He knows better.

“Wait here for me, sub.” Aizen slides off of the bed, retrieves a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand as he shucks his jeans and makes his way leisurely toward the trunk at the foot of the bed. He’s glad he wore briefs, not in the mood to get fully naked.

The black leather harness fits around his hips and between them, supportive, and he picks a few different toys from the selection he has before bringing them closer for Shinji’s inspection. To the surprise of no one at all, Shinji chooses the largest Aizen has to offer him, and he screws the base into the harness before sliding behind Shinji once more, uncapping the lubricant and wetting his fingers with it. Shinji can take two right away, opening up easy around Aizen’s fingers, greedily pulling his fingers in deeper as he rolls his hips down on them.

It’s a beautiful sight, watching Shinji fuck himself on Aizen’s fingers, but it’s selfish so Aizen works with him, thumbs over his perineum as he massages Shinji’s prostate from the inside as well. The dual stimulation has his entire body shuddering, hips hiccuping as Aizen caresses sensitive nerves until Shinji is almost sobbing. Two fingers become three and then four, and Shinji takes him so perfectly, so wonderfully he can’t _not_ fuck him now.

He still takes his time slicking his cock, spreading lubricant over the shiny black surface, fingers stroking idly over the lifelike veins. “Give me a color, sub.”

“Green, Sir.” Shinji’s thighs are trembling, and the front of his shorts wet with pre-come.

“Very good.” Aizen presses the slick head of his cock against Shinji’s slick and stretched-red rim open around him. “You paint such a lovely picture for me. Pure perfection.”

Shinji holds himself perfectly still as Aizen spears him open on one fluid wet thrust, bottoming out inside of him easily because he’d taken the time, and because he knows Shinji’s body and how to pleasure him, how to make it easy on him. He lets Shinji have a moment to breathe, using the opportunity to peel Shinji’s shorts down to his knees. The heavy weight of his cock is free and Aizen strokes it slowly, feeling it leak wet and hot across his fingers. Amazingly, Shinji is still through the entire process even as his body trembles and jerks and twitches.

Aizen can be kind. He lets go of Shinji’s cock, hands settling on his slender hips, and gives him what he’s been desperate for. When Aizen fucks him, it’s smooth and steady and fast enough to make Shinji tighten around him, the friction no doubt almost overwhelming from the way Shinji writhes and pants and begs. He has to be careful because he can’t _feel_ it but Shinji is all positive reactions, head throws back, back arched for him, thighs spread so obscenely wide that Aizen’s cock sinks in just a little deeper, and he can just _imagine_ how hot Shinji is around him, smooth walls clinging to his cock as he tries to draw Aizen in as deep as he can.

“Do you want to come, sub?” Aizen slows to a grind, dragging his cock over Shinji’s prostate until Shinji mewls and kicks his feet, sweet and flushed, hair a mess. “Ask me politely.”

“I want to come, Sir.” Shinji’s voice is clear even as he chokes on a moan, gripping his own hair between his shaking fingers. “Please, Sir, let me please you by coming on your cock.”

He always knows _exactly_ what to say to make Aizen smile.

Aizen curls a hand around the front of his throat, pulling Shinji back up on his knees, shallow thrusts just deep enough to remind him how full he is while he wraps a hand around Shinji’s cock, keeping Shinji’s back pinned to his chest. Shinji’s skin is white hot to the touch and slick with sweat and Aizen can feel him breathing like this, the shudders wracking his slender frame while his hips buck, caught between Aizen’s cock and Aizen’s hand. His head falls back against Aizen’s shoulder and it’s the perfect position, Aizen gripping his chin roughly to kiss him, tongue shoving past his slack wet and bitten-red lips. Shinji groans and Aizen swallows the noise.

When Shinji comes it’s with a high and breathy cry, face screwed up, clamping down so hard on Aizen’s cock that he just stops moving altogether, working Shinji through the orgasm until Shinji whines at him, too sensitive. Carefully, Aizen slides out of him and helps him lie down, discarding the harness in quick movements before he stretches out on the bed next to Shinji, letting his sub curl up against his chest. Slowly, he brushes Shinji’s hair back out of his face and kisses his forehead, tasting the salt of his sweat there.

“Match your breathing to mine.” He takes Shinji’s hand, rests it on his chest so he has a rhythm to work with. “Calm for me, sub. And then I’ll get you something to drink.”

Shinji tangles their legs together, nuzzles into his chest. “Thank you, Sir.”

Aizen is at peace like this, Shinji a warm and sated weight in his arms, looking up at him with soft and gentle eyes while he slows his breathing.

He _has_ to make this work for Grimmjow, one way or another. He’ll overcome Ulquiorra’s resistance and conquer them both.

He wants to see those blue eyes looking up at him just like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look i revealed that sub from the last chapter in this chapter. that was a surprise for me too! anyway i love aizen and shinji together and i just love shinji in general so a good boy doing some serious help here. we're gonna get to grimmjow and ulquiorra next probably i hope you're ready to spend a bit of time with them before The Big First Scene.


	5. a quiet afternoon interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** more discussion of what happened with mayuri from grimmjow's point of view/discussion and anxiety relating to the situation and the upcoming scene with aizen.
> 
>  **sexual content:** lots of flirtation/banter, discussion of sexual content, and a blow job on the couch.

When Grimmjow finally rolls out of bed on Sunday afternoon, having slept in with no clients to speak of until closer to the evening, Ulquiorra is sitting at the bar in the kitchen with his tablet in front of him, a rare work day spent out of his office. It almost makes Grimmjow feel bad for not waking up earlier so they could spend time together, but he knows Ulquiorra likes to get a bulk of his work done during the morning hours because he seems to be at his best creativity wise before the sun reaches its peak in the sky. When Grimmjow leans over to peck him good morning on the cheek, Ulquiorra whips his head around and catches him square on the mouth.

It shocks a little noise out of him and has him reeling back, eyes wide as Ulquiorra locks his tablet. “You feelin’ a little frisky today, Quiorra?”

“No. I’m just happy to see you.” Ulquiorra curls a hand beneath his chin, watching Grimmjow from beneath the feather of his long black lashes like Grimmjow— baggy tank top, pajama pants sliding off of one hip, hair still fucked-up from bed— is a piece of art instead of a person. “How did you sleep? You were out pretty fast after the last orgasm.”

The reminder has Grimmjow grinning as he saunters toward the refrigerator, retrieving the carton of orange juice to pour himself a glass. While Ulquiorra survives on coffee, Grimmjow has never needed the caffeine and only engages in the rare cup every now and then when he wakes up cold and wants to warm up fast and can’t be fucked to make hot chocolate.

Last night had been… Something. It’s been _something_ ever since the dinner date with Aizen, Ulquiorra making good on his promise to fuck Grimmjow on the hood of their car as soon as he parked it in the garage. They should be so lucky that their apartment is just a large building divided in two, that they have a private garage and don’t have to park on the street. It saves on time not having to scrape the windshield during the winter and it lets Ulquiorra fuck him in or on the car depending on whatever mood the two of them are in.

He’s been going to work a little sore each day, nothing he can’t handle but still something to think about just the same. When the date had been over, Grimmjow knew he was revved up and ready for Ulquiorra to wreck him however he saw fit, but whatever had possessed Ulquiorra the moment they were home had shocked him. The possessiveness in his touches, the sudden sharp spike in stamina, the fact he could hold back his orgasm until Grimmjow was all but sobbing from how sensitive he was— It’s not like him, but it isn’t _bad_ either.

“Slept straight through the night,” Grimmjow tells him, sipping from his glass thoughtfully as he eyes the kitchen, debating about if he wants to make some kind of excuse for breakfast or if he should just skip right to lunch instead. “How about you? What’s even gotten into you lately?”

Ulquiorra rolls his shoulders. “I don’t know. Are you not enjoying the increase in activity?”

“You think I’m gonna complain about free orgasms? _Me?_ ” Grimmjow rolls his eyes, decides on a sandwich, and sets his glass at the bar so he can get to assembling one. “How’d work go?”

“Fine. I’ve sent a few designs out this morning. They’re just first attempts so I doubt I’m even halfway through to the finished product, but it’s more than I thought I’d be able to get done by this time.” Ulquiorra pulls a knee up to his chest, the other dangling toward the floor as he watches Grimmjow’s movements like a hawk. “We really are going to do this. We’re going to invite this man into our house and let him have sex with you.”

 _Ah, there it is._ Grimmjow has been anticipating this conversation ever since dinner, ever since Ulquiorra finally came out and agreed to everything. “Do you want to call it off?”

“He kissed me. I don’t think you could have seen from the car, but he kissed me.” Ulquiorra touches his mouth like he’s still feeling the ghost of the pressure of Aizen’s lips.

“He did?” Grimmjow tries to sound casual, but the thought makes his blood hot, his skin tingling at the image of his boyfriend kissing another man, another _hot_ man who kisses him a wild beast barely restrained by his own self-control. “Maybe he wants you to participate after all.”

Ulquiorra is quiet, then tips his head to the side. “Do you want me to participate?”

“You’re really fucking diplomatic about all of this, you know? _What do you want? Do you want this?_ ” Grimmjow has just woken up but he’s trying his best not to let his voice get _too_ whiny when he imitates Ulquiorra, smirking when his boyfriend’s eyes narrow in his direction. “What? You know I’m right. You still haven’t just out and out told me what you wanted. Watching was the only thing you could come up with, and you don’t even sound so sure about that.”

“You were the one who wanted to go to Las Noches in the first place. I’m trying to make sure this is the experience you want it to be.” Ulquiorra shifts in his seat and Grimmjow sees the slightest bit of shame flare in his eyes before he turns his gaze to the floor.

 _Not this again._ Grimmjow sets the jar of pickles he’d been about to open aside and walks over to Ulquiorra, taking that pretty face in both of his hands and raising it until Ulquiorra finally breaks and looks into his eyes. It almost always takes Grimmjow’s breath away, being this close to him and looking at him like this, the sharp lines of his face and the beautiful green of his eyes against his pale, pale skin. He’s all hard lines and contrasting colors and Grimmjow kind of feels like a fucking idiot just standing here, staring at him like he’s never seen him before.

He clears his throat, tries to screw his head back on straight. _Ha, as if._ “This isn’t going to be fun for me if you’re not having fun. I wanted you there with me, but if you don’t want to do this, I’m not gonna want to do it, either. Do you want to join in, or don’t you?”

“I— I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.” Ulquiorra’s fingers come to curl around his wrists, callused and rough against Grimmjow’s warm skin. “Probably. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to look at you in the throes of passion and been able to keep my hands to myself.”

The wording makes Grimmjow’s face hot. “Do you always gotta sound all poetic?”

“Maybe I do.” Ulquiorra’s eyes glitter up at him, and a smile tugs at his lips, softens his face at every angle. “I probably want to join in. Whether that means dominating you with Aizen or submitting at your side, I just don’t know. Maybe both. I could be a switch.”

Grimmjow nods, leaning in to kiss him, and he can just taste the bitterness of Ulquiorra’s last cup of coffee on his tongue. “Thank you. You just, I know it’s hard, but you gotta be honest with me about this stuff so we can figure it out and have fun together.”

“Part of me was very worried I wouldn’t be able to cope with the idea of another man touching you whether it was with my consent or otherwise.” Ulquiorra leans into his hands, eyelids growing heavy and Grimmjow shudders all over at how _easy_ it is for Ulquiorra to do bedroom eyes without even trying. How had this man ever been single? “But when I saw Aizen touch you and kiss you, it aroused me. So I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 _Well, there’s one thing at least._ “I wish I’d seen him kiss you. I’d kill to see that. You gotta wheedle it out of him when he comes over or I’m gonna feel permanently blueballed.”

“For you,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow kisses him again. “Now, make your sandwich.”

“What are we doing today? I don’t have clients until, like…” Grimmjow checks his phone to make doubly sure he isn’t going to fuck this up. “I don’t see Luppi until like, four, and he’s my only client today. And you don’t even leave the house to work.”

Ulquiorra looks considerate at the question, leg swinging slowly back and forth as his expression grows slightly distant. “We’ve built up quite a collection of movies on Netflix to watch, I suppose we can start there. Unless you have any better ideas in mind?”

“I can’t think of anything better than movie day with you, honestly.” Grimmjow beams, triumphant, when Ulquiorra blushes and ducks his head just a little. “Go put your tablet on its charger so it doesn’t fucking die or something and get some snacks. I’ll turn on the TV.”

When the two of them had first started dating, Grimmjow had the initial concern the two of them were just too different to function as a couple and that it might be fun for a few weeks before they eventually started hitting roadblocks that they simply could not overcome. No such thing happened; they conquered obstacles together without ever looking back and Grimmjow found himself happier than he had ever been in a very long time. Happy enough that when Ulquiorra suggested they move in together— they were basically living at each other’s apartments— Grimmjow jumped at the chance to have a proper home with him.

Again, he hasn’t looked back. There are no regrets to be had.

While he turns on the TV, sets up Netflix, and opens up their saved list of movies to pick something to watch, Ulquiorra brings him the rest of his juice, sets some snacks out on the table, and stretches the blanket across the back of the couch over their legs, which mesh together nicely under the fabric. As soon as Grimmjow finishes his sandwich, he slumps over on Ulquiorra, enjoying the feel of the smaller man easily managing his weight.

He loves that Ulquiorra is so strong, quietly so, and had been surprised to learn that Ulquiorra worked out on his own. But he’d been taking care of his body, once told a blushing and flustered Grimmjow that he had a taste for beautiful muscular men and wanted to show off by being able to carry them around as he saw fit. He’d certainly hauled Grimmjow around enough to never make him doubt Ulquiorra was strong enough to do whatever he wanted to do.

Halfway through the first movie, though, Ulquiorra shifts so that Grimmjow falls across his lap, which is basically Grimmjow’s favorite place in the world to sit or lay. He stops giving a shit about the movie, reaching up to toy with Ulquiorra’s hair, twirling it around his fingers.

“Do you think I’m going to fuck this up by freezing up the minute he hits me?” he asks.

Ulquiorra’s hand is on the remote in an instant, pausing the movie. “Repeat that for me.”

Grimmjow doesn’t, paraphrasing instead, his chest feeling oddly tight as he finally admits out loud what he’s been thinking about since Aizen first made the offer. “I think I’m gonna fuck it up. I’ll make a mistake or— Or something, and he’ll, I dunno, spank me? And I’ll freak out, ‘cause it’s gonna be like when— When that _asshole_ put his hands on me—”

He yelps when Ulquiorra pulls him up into his arms, his head trapped under Ulquiorra’s chin. “I’m not going to let that happen, Grimmjow. If your discomfort is clear, I will stop things.”

“I just, you know, it’s _dumb_ to still give a shit maybe ‘cause it’s not like anything even happened, b-but—” Grimmjow breaks off, takes a deep breath to calm himself down because he’s _not_ going to get worked up over some asshole who doesn’t even deserve to have Grimmjow thinking twice about him. “But I told him to stop, and he didn’t, and that scared the shit out of me. And he was gonna keep hurting me. So I guess I’m just, like I’m nervous?”

“It’s not dumb to be afraid because you had a bad experience.” Ulquiorra kisses the top of his head and Grimmjow sighs softly against the front of Ulquiorra’s throat. “It’s normal. Do you want to perhaps put this off? We can if you need time to think things over.”

“I think if I put it off, I’m never gonna be able to do it. Like, I’ll stop to _think things over_ and then I’ll just never have time to think about them, or I’ll overthink or underthink or _something_ and then it’ll have been years.” It’s already happened more than once, Grimmjow talking himself out of what he wanted for various reasons. “You said you were gonna watch over me, right?”

“Of course I am. For what it’s worth…” Ulquiorra trails off, fingers combing Grimmjow’s tangled hair back out of his face. “For what it’s worth, Aizen Sosuke seems like a good man and I think you can trust him, in this respect. _We_ can trust him. He’s not like _him._ ”

That soothes Grimmjow more than he wants to admit because Ulquiorra has always been good at reading people, always able to pick out those who were dangerous. If Grimmjow had been smart enough to introduce him to Mayuri before trying anything with him, things might not have gone down the way they had— But it’s not his fault. He keeps having to pause and remind himself of that, that he did absolutely nothing to earn that situation, that Mayuri had been punished and, in the end, Grimmjow had lucked out. He’d been introduced to a handsome Dominant who seemed intent on giving him the experience he’d been craving.

And he really doesn’t want to walk away without giving it at least one shot. He won’t be alone this time, he won’t be in some strange place. It’ll be his apartment, his bedroom, his boyfriend there to keep him safe, and a man who had already shown him plenty of care and consideration both emotionally and physically to soothe some of the concern away.

Just not all of it, but Grimmjow can be patient if he _has_ to be.

He presses a kiss to the front of Ulquiorra’s throat, tongue tracing the curve of his Adam’s apple, the protrusion all the more obvious and prominent against his pale skin. “Thanks, Quiorra. You’re always there for me and you always got my back. You’re a great guy.”

“You’re my boyfriend. Of course I’m always going to be there for you.” Ulquiorra sounds fondly exasperated and Grimmjow laughs against his skin, nuzzling into it, into him, the warmth of his protective embrace. “And I’m not going to let anything happen to you ever again.”

“I trust you to keep that promise.” He’s trusted Ulquiorra with so much more than this that it seems like child’s play to even say it out loud, but it’s important to him.

Ulquiorra tips his chin up and kisses him in reply, and Grimmjow melts gratefully into him.

They finish their movie and Grimmjow continues to sprawl across Ulquiorra’s lap, head resting on one strong thigh, fingers half-curled in the blanket as he _tries_ and fails to focus on the second movie, too preoccupied with what’s coming this week. Too caught up in wondering about Ulquiorra watching him while he’s vulnerable and naked underneath another man’s hands, when he’s letting himself bend to someone else’s will so that he’ll receive the reward of ultimate pleasure in response. They’ve never shared with another person before, never considered it.

He keeps coming back to what Ulquiorra had told him, that Aizen had kissed him before he’d gotten into the car. When Ulquiorra had gotten into the car, he’d been worked up and for the most part, Grimmjow thought it was because Aizen had kissed _him,_ not even close to missing the visible curve of Ulquiorra’s erection against the front of his pants when the kiss had broken. He’d enjoyed the sight, and maybe they had talked after, but he’d never imagined Ulquiorra would let another man kiss him. The thought would never have occurred to him.

It makes desire burn low and hot in his gut even though his body is still twinging with soreness after last night. Aizen isn’t as well-built as Grimmjow is but he’s still handsome as hell, sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders and the kind of smoldering gaze and smirk combo that would have KO’ed a lesser man on the spot. The thought of him kissing Ulquiorra makes Grimmjow whine softly; he damn sure _better_ get to see that in the near future.

“Grimmjow?” _Shit, he heard me._ “Is something wrong, my love?”

The pet name does things to him that it shouldn’t be able to, reminding him that at his core Ulquiorra is still a more traditional romantic, honeyed words dripping from his lips easier than he breathes. It makes Grimmjow kick at the couch arm in frustration because it turns him on, and he doesn’t think he could take another round right now if he wanted to. Not if he actually plans on doing his job today, and isn’t that all kinds of unfair?

Ulquiorra chuckles softly, smoothes a hand over his hip before clever fingers dip beneath the elastic. “My, my, you’re worked up about something. Would you like me to assist you?”

“If you fuck me right now, I’m not gonna be able to go to work,” Grimmjow says bluntly.

“I don’t have to fuck you, then. Here, sit up.” Ulquiorra pats his shoulder and Grimmjow whines because he doesn’t _want_ to, he’s comfortable even if the position puts weird pressure on his slowly hardening cock. “Sit up. I can’t exactly suck your cock in this position, now can I?”

The words have Grimmjow shooting up so fast he almost slips and falls off of the couch, yanking the blanket off of himself as he sits in the middle of the couch. Before he can get a hand at the waistband of his pants to yank them off, Ulquiorra slides to the floor in one graceful and fluid motion and maybe, just maybe, it becomes literally fucking impossible for Grimmjow to think. It’s all the harder when Ulquiorra kneels between his spread knees, tongue running softly over his pale, full lips. Grimmjow just blinks at him and Ulquiorra pulls his pajama pants and boxers down for him, freeing Grimmjow’s cock which is definitely harder than it was a minute ago.

“How pretty.” Ulquiorra wraps a hand around his cock and sometimes, like now, Grimmjow is a little thrown in the size difference between them. His boyfriend isn’t one of those short guys whose hands still come out roughly the size you’d expect from a grown man; his fingers are shorter and his palm is smaller and it means he can wrap both hands around Grimmjow’s cock, and it’s… It’s hotter than Grimmjow thought possible. “You’re already so hard for me.”

 _For me._ The distinction makes Grimmjow exhale through his nose and he nods, watching Ulquiorra’s fingers trace the slight curve in his shaft, his skin flushed red. “Quiorra, pl-please—”

“You’re even wet for me, hmm?” Ulquiorra gives his cock one long stroke and pre-come beads on the head, slowly rolling down the underside. “What a lovely present to enjoy.”

Grimmjow’s mouth falls open when Ulquiorra leans forward to lap up the underside of his cock, tongue smoothing over his hot skin while those viridian eyes remain locked with his own. Something about that never fails to undo him, Ulquiorra holding such perfect eye contact while he runs his tongue over Grimmjow’s cock, curling it around his shaft teasingly, flicking over the head like he’s a particularly sweet piece of candy that Ulquiorra wants to savor.

Every slow pump of his hand only dribbles pre-come down Grimmjow’s cock and his head falls back against the cushion, panting harshly every time Ulquiorra’s wicked tongue flicks over his skin. His cock is almost throbbing in Ulquiorra’s grip, his balls drawn up tight beneath it and God, he wants Ulquiorra’s mouth on his skin. He wants Ulquiorra’s throat opening around his shaft, wants the wet slide of those lips instead of this sweet teasing.

He shouldn’t have said a damned thing about being sore. He’s sure it was a mistake.

“Are you frustrated with me, Grimmjow? Your hands are curled into fists and your gritting your teeth.” Ulquiorra presses a kiss to the head of Grimmjow’s cock, licking the wetness off of his lips. “You look like you want to say something to me.”

“I’d really like you to stop fucking _teasing_ me and suck my dick already,” Grimmjow snaps.

Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow at him. “That’s not very nice of you to say. Why don’t you say please? If you’re going to be a polite and proper submissive, you should learn the word.”

 _Fuck._ Grimmjow lets his head fall back against the couch around a frustrated little whine, hips bucking when Ulquiorra’s thumb strokes over the vein on the underside of his cock. “Please, Quiorra. Please suck my cock, _Sir._ ”

He yelps when Ulquiorra’s mouth folds around the head of his cock, all hot and velvet, lips sliding over the sensitive skin before tightening around the tip. It’s so sudden that his hips jolt up off of the couch but Ulquiorra doesn’t so much as choke, tongue pressed against that vein as he lets Grimmjow fuck up into his mouth. And those eyes are still on him, fingers curled around the base of his cock to hold it in place. Ulquiorra’s lips are already a little pink from where he’s been leaving wet kisses on Grimmjow’s dick, and they’ll be stained red by the time he’s done.

Fuck, _fuck,_ Grimmjow really has to stop thinking about this or he’s just going to come right now.

The first time Ulquiorra had ever blown him was after their third date. They’d been going back to Grimmjow’s place to fuck properly, both of them too wound up, too into each other, and Ulquiorra pulled over in a vacant parking lot and sucked him off in the car.

That was fast, hot, messy but good. This is better. Ulquiorra takes him in little swallows, lips sliding hot and wet against his shaft, tongue laving the head of his cock, then the girth of him when the tip’s too far back for him to reach properly. And those eyes keep him pinned in place until Grimmjow is flushed down his chest, thighs trembling not from pleasure but from the blatant fire burning in Ulquiorra’s eyes, sweeping hot tongues of flame down his skin.

Ulquiorra finally lets go of his cock, hand smoothing over Grimmjow’s abdomen as he sucks and swallows the last of it down, nose nestled against the soft blue curls of Grimmjow’s pubic hair. The only man who’s ever managed to get this far without gagging on him, and then Ulquiorra _swallows_ just so Grimmjow chokes and groans and tries so hard not to fuck his throat.

He wants to. God, he wants to. He wants to hold Ulquiorra by the hair and fuck his slack opened mouth, watch drool run down his chin, but he’s not delusional and Ulquiorra has all the control right now. Truth be told, Grimmjow doesn’t think he even has the necessary energy and force left in him, his entire body trembling and weak in the wake of Ulquiorra’s touch, Ulquiorra’s wet mouth around his cock and his hands stroking hot patterns along Grimmjow’s stomach and thighs like he’s drawing on his skin.

And then Ulquiorra draws back slowly, his lips fastened tight to Grimmjow’s cock until they’re just under the head once more, his tongue sweeping over the sensitive skin before he takes him down again, faster than the first time. It’s heady, watching Ulquiorra do this, watching him be so in control and focused, being pinned under his gaze. It’s everything Grimmjow had ever really wanted in a partner when it came to the sex aspect of things.

“Pl-please.” Grimmjow doesn’t know what he’s asking for, what he’s pleading for. He sees the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth quirk just the same and he whimpers, fingers digging into the backs of his knees just to have something to hold onto, something tangible. “Please, Quiorra, _please._ ”

Ulquiorra seems to understand more about his baseless plea than he does, bobbing his head faster on Grimmjow’s cock, his lips a little slack to accommodate the friction, tongue curling and lashing against his skin until he’s shivering all over from the uneven rhythm of it contrasting with how smooth and steady his head moves. It makes Grimmjow feel hot all over, the muscles in his gut pulling taut with every sweet suck and lick. And still Ulquiorra looks up at him, no doubt drinking in his reactions, the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his chest heaves.

Delicate fingers tuck a stray strand of black hair back behind his ear like it’s _nothing_ and Grimmjow swears at the sight, how casual Ulquiorra can be about all of his even as he slurps loudly around Grimmjow’s dick. He’s so wet that Grimmjow can see the wetness on his skin, the way it reflects the low light in the room and that makes him squirm all over again, panting harshly. He’s close but Ulquiorra just keeps doing what he’s doing, sinking down and pulling back, his throat so tight and hot and _wonderful_ but it’s not _enough—_

Grimmjow cries out pitifully and then Ulquiorra _moans_ and everything goes white.

The heat coiled tight in his gut explodes over his entire body and he _yowls_ with it, head thrown back against the pillow and he’d fuck Ulquiorra’s mouth hard but those hands are on his hips, keeping him pinned in place while Ulquiorra swallows, his throat making quick rhythmic little movements that draw tiny whimpers from Grimmjow’s lips. When he’s softening and too sensitive he pushes Ulquiorra’s forehead until Ulquiorra lets him go, and his mouth is _red_ and wrecked and Grimmjow feels like everything in his body has gone hot and liquid.

With delicate fingers, Ulquiorra wipes the drool away from the corner of his mouth. “Do you feel less frustrated, now? What even got you so worked up?”

“Thought about Aizen kissing you,” Grimmjow admits, too tired to come up with something that sounds like even a halfway convincing lie. Though honestly sometimes the light hits Ulquiorra’s face just right and his dick is ready to go. “And I guess it just got me going.”

“You guess,” Ulquiorra says primly as he pulls Grimmjow’s pants and boxers back up.

Unashamed, Grimmjow smirks at him, lifting his hips so Ulquiorra can cover him back up. “Yeah, I _guess_ I wanted to know what it looked like when he has his tongue in your mouth.”

“It’s a pity he isn’t here right now to do just that. He could taste your come on my tongue that way.” Ulquiorra sits himself down on Grimmjow’s lap, grips his jaw tight enough that Grimmjow couldn’t escape if he wanted to. “I guess I’ll just share the taste with you instead.”

He thrusts his tongue between Grimmjow’s lips and Grimmjow _moans,_ the slightly sweet taste of his own come on Ulquiorra’s tongue making his heavy limbs twitch with interest once more. It’s always a little sweet because he errs on the side of caution when it comes to juice and fruit, always trying to keep himself healthy and he _knows_ that if it tastes good, Ulquiorra will just keep coming back for more over and over again. So far, he’s been right.

“I’ve left you enough time to get showered and dressed for our job.” Ulquiorra licks his lips like a cat content with cream, slipping off of Grimmjow’s lap to sit back down on the couch. “You should probably hurry, though, because I know how you are once you’re under the hot water.”

Grimmjow looks him over. “You need my help or anything or..?”

“I’m fine. I might have already, once this morning.” Ulquiorra’s cheeks go the slightest pink but he doesn’t look away, never quite ashamed enough. “Thinking about you last night.”

The sentiment has Grimmjow grinning a Cheshire smile as he shoves himself up off of the couch. “Fucking nice. Even when I’m unconscious I can still get you off.”

The comment has Ulquiorra rolling his eyes and hiding them behind a hand, and Grimmjow laughs as he kisses the top of Ulquiorra’s head on the way to the bathroom. The orgasm had soothed the slight twist of anxiety still lingering in his gut and put a bounce in his step; Luppi is almost certainly going to tease him about it when he shows up, and Grimmjow won’t even bother to deny it ‘cause he sucks at lying and Luppi knows better anyway.

Ulquiorra is going to watch over him. He’s going to make sure nothing goes wrong, and Aizen isn’t even the kind of guy who would hurt him in the first place. Everything is going to be fine, Grimmjow is going to be safe, he’s going to scratch the itch he’s been handling for _years_ without any source of comfort, and he’s going to get a hell of a night of sex out of it. Maybe more, if things work out for all of them, and God, he hopes they do.

He really wants to see more of Aizen, and he wants to see more of Aizen and Ulquiorra together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter leading up to the scene with aizen that's coming, which is starting in the next chapter (and it might take more than one, we'll just have to see how long the scene runs/if the povs switch). it was important to me to really establish grimmjow's feelings about things, and reassure him that he's ready for this and that he can handle it. also more of his interactions with ulquiorra as a couple with just the two of them to really solidify that bond, i think.
> 
> the big scene comes next~


	6. an evening yet to come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **warnings:** none
> 
> consensual undressing, bondage, light sensory deprivation.

When Aizen parks his car in front of the apartment that belongs to his charges for the evening, Ulquiorra is waiting for him on the front porch. The weather will be turning soon but for now the air is only slightly cool and Ulquiorra can get away with jeans and bare feet, sitting in a cushioned chair with one slender knee drawn up to his chest. Seeing him in casual clothing is interesting because even at Las Noches, he had been well-dressed as if he expected people to be staring at him. Now he sits in a black shirt emblazoned with a band name Aizen recognizes, the sleeves long enough to nearly cover the fingers wrapped around a pale green ceramic mug.

“Hello, Ulquiorra.” Aizen waves a hand to him as he retrieves his duffel bag from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder. “Enjoying a cup of hot chocolate in the cool air?”

“It’s coffee. If it doesn’t have caffeine, I’m not interested.” Ulquiorra sips from the mug as if to make a point and Aizen’s lips quirk at the tone of his voice. “I got your text about what’s in the bag. Grimmjow’s just finishing up in the shower, I assume.”

“Do you sit out here often on your own?” The idea of an artist drinking in the cool air and the whisper of leaves drifting across the pavement and grass is a picturesque one.

But Ulquiorra dashes that immediately, lips pressed into a thin line, scowling at Aizen over the top of his mug. “ _ No. _ Grimmjow said I was too wound up and jittery and it was making him nervous, so he kicked me out of the apartment so he could finish getting ready.”

Of course they were off to this kind of start. When Aizen had aired out his issues with Shinji and the two of them had talked, he thought he might be able to walk into this night with his head on his shoulders and a plan in front of him. So of course, Ulquiorra had ripped up the foundation of his plan and left him grasping at straws once more, the one detail in this scenario that Aizen can hardly account for. A wildcard that he never planned to draw out of the deck.

So be it. Ulquiorra is not just a disruption in his plan; Ulquiorra is a part of this night and Aizen knows that no matter how much Grimmjow enjoys himself, that is not going to be enough for Aizen himself. Having a scene with multiple people means juggling the enjoyment of those people and for as easy as it would be to ignore Ulquiorra’s wants and needs in favor of giving Grimmjow what he wants— the would-be submissive is a hell of a lot more forward and vocal about what he plans on achieving tonight— it would also be wrong.

“I see.” Aizen sits his duffel bag in the empty chair— two chairs, a small table between, a very cute and domestic setup to be sure. “Then I’m going to relax you before we go back inside.”

“Excuse me?” Ulquiorra’s scowl deepens and then smoothes out into an expression of surprise and apprehension when Aizen kneels down in front of him, fingers closing around the slender ankle propped on the edge of the chair. “We can’t have sex on my front porch.”

Aizen chuckles, thumb pressing into the delicate ankle bone. “That’s true. It’s not screened in.”

“You don’t have to  _ relax _ me. I’m just watching, remember? I’m not going to be participating and if Grimmjow is focused on you, then he’s not even going to realize I’m there.” A slight bitterness at the end of the words tells Aizen  _ everything _ he needs to know about Ulquiorra’s mood.

“If you believe for one second that Grimmjow is going to forget your presence in your bedroom just because I happen to be in control, then you really have not done enough research.” Aizen tugs Ulquiorra’s foot down off of the chair, collecting the other from the concrete flooring of the porch, resting both of them on his lap. “Your nervous energy will register to him.”

And likely ruin everything if Aizen lets Ulquiorra get worse instead of dealing with the issue now.

“This seems unnecessary to me just the same,” Ulquiorra protests, holding his mug up in front of him like some kind of shield, a hot defense system.

Whatever. Aizen has spilled enough coffee on himself over the years, and melted wax tends to be much worse anyway. “If you think you know more about BDSM than I do, then by all means, ask me to leave and dominate him yourself. But I know that isn’t true, and so do you.”

“I do not like being touched in such a brazen way.” Ulquiorra lifts his mug to his lips once more and Aizen watches the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows. “I did not give consent.”

_ Ah, so you’ve done at least the very base level of reading after all. _ “You’re right, so I apologize. But let me relax you, Ulquiorra. If you want to enjoy this—”

“This is about  _ his _ enjoyment,” Ulquiorra cuts in, and Aizen heaves a sigh at him.

“You can say that as many times as you want to, but in your heart I don’t think you quite believe it as much as you think you do.” Aizen rests his chin on Ulquiorra’s knee, listening to his breath hitch at the contact. “Maybe you view this as being more about Grimmjow’s needs than your own, but I’m not coming at it from that angle, so we’re going to have a conflict of interest.”

Ulquiorra’s hand comes to rest on top of his head and Aizen smiles slightly at the gentle contact, fingers brushing the stray hairs off of his forehead. Since he’s doing a scene with the two of them, he had Byakuya braid it back out of his face for him because only Byakuya can get the braid tight enough without it resulting in his scalp aching and prickling for hours once he takes it down. The one skill Aizen has never bothered to sit down and learn properly.

When Ulquiorra finally speaks, his voice is low and soft. “You’re coming at this from the angle of our joint enjoyment instead of only his. I should have known you’d do something like that.”

“You really should have given I made it very explicitly clear to you.” Aizen looks up at him, at those troubled green eyes. “You must have a lot on your mind this evening.”

The fingers in his hair hesitate a moment before petting down the side of his face.  _ Ah, _ it’s surprisingly pleasant and not at all what he would have expected from Ulquiorra given his frosty demeanor during their dinner date and the text messages they exchanged. “I’m worried about him and I’m worried I’m going to fuck this up for the both of us.”

“That’s a normal fear to have. That’s why I’m here. Your experienced hand in BDSM to make sure both of you enjoy yourselves.” The fact Ulquiorra needs to be reminded of that is only a little concerning and nothing Aizen cannot handle. “Now let me properly take care of you.”

He wonders if Ulquiorra’s neighbors have seen the two of them together as he’s been kneeling here, wonders what they think of the sight if they think anything at all.

“All right,” Ulquiorra finally agrees, squirming just a little in place before he sets his mug on the table next to him but still within reach. “Nothing sexual since this is a public venue.”

Aizen leans up and away from him, hands curling around his ankles, fingers stroking over the bones there, the joints that need so much care and attention. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of making you the talk of the neighborhood in such a way. I behave in public.”

He can only do so much in such a position and with Ulquiorra’s clothing still in place, but he manages just fine, fingers finding the points of tension in Ulquiorra’s slender but surprisingly muscular legs, easing them as best he can. When Ulquiorra sighs and slouches down a little in his seat, Aizen considers it a victory and abandons his legs once he reaches his thighs, taking Ulquiorra’s hands in his own. Like the rest of him, his hands are small, fingers curled loosely in Aizen’s warm grip, the skin here rougher with calluses and scars. Aizen meets Ulquiorra’s eyes as he brings his hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle in turn.

“Match your breathing to mine.” He takes slow, deep breaths until Ulquiorra finally mimics the motion, chest just barely visible beneath the swamp of black fabric on his frame. “Good, very good. Finish your coffee and we’ll go inside and see Grimmjow. Trust me, Ulquiorra. I know how much I’m asking for you, and that it may be difficult, but I will take care of you both.”

“All right. I trust you.” Ulquiorra picks up his mug and finishes his coffee, and only after Aizen has made Ulquiorra show him the empty contents does he stand and retrieve his bag.

The apartment itself is a two-story structure and beautiful, a clash of modern and homey style that has Aizen turning around to drink in each detail. The color palette is beautiful and warm but bright, something that would soak in the sunlight and fill every crevice with light during the day. Though Ulquiorra is a graphic design artist, Aizen has a hard time believing that he wasn’t the one who carefully chose this color scheme to create a certain effect.

His fingers drift over a blanket stretched over the back of the couch. “Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra steps into the kitchen, a space Aizen can see most of between the wide doorway and the pass-through connecting it to the living room. “The bedroom is upstairs.”

Aizen hums and turns toward Ulquiorra once more, holding his arms out. “Come here first.”

The slight pause in Ulquiorra’s movements catches his eye but then Ulquiorra takes a deep breath and nods, walking into Aizen’s waiting embrace, his hands crammed awkwardly against his own chest like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them. Gently, Aizen encourages Ulquiorra to embrace him in return, satisfied when he feels Ulquiorra’s hands press into his back while his own settle, one around Ulquiorra’s shoulders and the other around his waist.

“You don’t have to be so shy or uncertain,” Aizen reminds him, rubbing a small circle into his back until Ulquiorra goes lax against his chest. “Very good. Much better, in fact.”

“This is new for me. I’m usually monogamous,” Ulquiorra murmurs, fingers curling carefully.

That is hardly a surprise, all things considered. “I understand. But I want you to know that you aren’t  _ sharing _ him. We’re sharing an experience with one another on equal terms.”

“Okay.” Ulquiorra nods before his forehead comes to rest against Aizen’s collarbone, and it’s oh so easy for Aizen to tuck his chin on top of Ulquiorra’s head, feeling the smaller man continue to soften in his arms.  _ Ah, so it just takes a little gentle coaxing. _ “This is nice. Just this.”

“It is. It’s very gratifying to hold someone who fits quite well in my arms.” Aizen chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of Ulquiorra’s hair, which he obviously takes quite good care of for it to have this silky texture. It’s like kissing a very small kitten.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs makes Ulquiorra jump but Aizen makes no move to let him go, casting his glance to the left instead to see Grimmjow thumping down the stairs, a towel hanging around his neck. “Well, well, well. We’re getting started without me.”

“We’re calming Ulquiorra down,” Aizen corrects him. “Come hold him from the other side.”

“This is  _ unnecessary, _ ” Ulquiorra says, but Aizen only tightens his arms around him.

Grimmjow plasters himself against Ulquiorra’s back and Aizen hums, pleased with this turn of events. “Not that I don’t like smashing Ulquiorra in a cuddle sandwich, but is he okay?”

“I am  _ right _ here,” Ulquiorra reminds him, and he sounds  _ adorable _ when he’s truly annoyed.

“Ulquiorra is just fine.” Aizen kisses the top of his head to punctuate the sentence, not missing the spark of interest in Grimmjow’s gaze at the small touch. “Shall we go upstairs now?”

The question fills the air with an intensity that was not there a moment before and Grimmjow swallows so hard Aizen can hear his throat click, blue eyes widening just a touch. “Y-yeah, we can do that. Uh, we’re gonna talk about things before we just jump in, right?”

“Of course.” Aizen finally, regrettably, lets Ulquiorra slip free of his arms. “Lead the way.”

He watches Grimmjow reach for Ulquiorra’s hand, their fingers twining together as they squeeze up the staircase together, staying just a few steps behind them for the sake of politeness. Truly, the contrast between them makes them all the more beautiful together and Aizen wonders how hard it’s going to be to see them naked, see them touching each other. He’s going to have to exercise quite a bit of control once that scenario eventually comes around.

And it will. He  _ knows _ Ulquiorra will want to participate, one way or another.

The bedroom is darker than the rest of the apartment, the walls painted a deep blue-grey, the dark curtains drawn to keep out any light which must make sleeping up here peaceful even on late mornings. When Aizen steps onto the carpet, he’s shocked to find it plush enough that he sinks in up to his ankles and wonders if he can convince Byakuya to install something like this in their own bedroom. He’s never been keen of the hardwood there, anyway.

Grimmjow leans back into the pillows, and Aizen notes the bedspread matches the walls with thin grey stripes shot through the slate. “So, what are we going to be doing?”

Ulquiorra sits next to him, letting Grimmjow pull him up against his side; Aizen sits on the edge of the bed a respectful distance from the two of them, setting his bag between them.

“You seemed interested in pain play but you have work tomorrow and I’m concerned about triggering a negative reaction for your first scene.” Aizen unzips the bag, the purring as the teeth part echoing in the quiet of the bedroom. If he listens hard enough, he might be able to hear their hearts beating faster as he reaches into the bag, fingers sliding against silk. “Impact play will leave you sore, and we don’t want that. It might also frighten you. However, there are other ways to arouse the senses that provide a better avenue to begin with.”

Aizen lays the silk scarf out on the bed— dark green, chosen with Ulquiorra’s eyes win mind— and the small earplugs. “A blindfold, so you can’t see. Earplugs, so you can’t hear. Depriving you of two of your senses will make touch more intense. I don’t have to use pain to make a lasting impact on you, pardon the pun. Would you be interested in that?”

“Blindfolding sounds cool,” Grimmjow agrees. “Dunno about the earplugs. Can we start with the blindfold and then try the earplugs? ‘Cause I think I could get into it if we did it like that.”

Aizen nods, and removes a length of cotton rope from his bag. “I want to bind your arms.”

Grimmjow stills. “Oh, so you mean like when—”

“No.” Aizen meets Grimmjow’s eyes and smiles slightly when he sees a slight flush spread beneath Grimmjow’s skin. “Just your arms. I like to tie shibari knots. I’d immobilize your arms from the elbows down to your wrists.” He removes a pair of craft scissors from the bag as well. “Ulquiorra will be given the scissors so that he can cut you free if you need to be.”

“You’re giving me some measure of control over the scene,” Ulquiorra muses.

“Of course.” Aizen lays out the rest of what he’s brought with him, leaving the harness in the bag for now because he hasn’t decided if he needs it yet. If Ulquiorra has noticed, he says nothing about it. “Nothing here will cause you pain. It might be interesting or intense sensation, but no pain, and no lasting marks. Not until we’ve concluded the first scene.”

The half-smile Grimmjow gives him warms him. “You going easy on me, think I can’t take it?”

“The exact opposite, actually. I  _ do _ think you can take it. I have every confidence in you, but I would never forgive myself if I allowed you to push yourself too far and ended up hurt as a result.” Aizen sets his bag on the floor and picks up the implements and tools he’s brought with him this evening, standing from the bed and sitting them all carefully on the nightstand. “Now, Ulquiorra. You said you wanted to start this scene watching, correct?”

He watches several emotions war for control of that pretty face before Ulquiorra finally sighs and nods, sliding off of the bed. “To start, yes. What would you like me to do?”

Aizen casts his gaze around the room, pleased to see a chair positioned near the window. “Do you read there often? It looks like quite a cozy little reading nook.”

“Reading or working.” Ulquiorra shrugs, shuffles his feet on the carpet.

After debating the logistics of the bedroom for a few minutes, Aizen positions the chair facing the bed at a diagonal and then takes Ulquiorra by the wrist, drawing him over to it. “I would like to undress you. You’re bound to become aroused by what you see, and I want Grimmjow to visibly see how much this affects you. It’s only right he should know how pleasing he is.”

“You would like to undress me,” Ulquiorra parrots back to him. “With your own hands.”

_ You’re sharp when you want to be.  _ “Yes. Unless this is a problem for you.”

“It’s fine.” Ulquiorra gulps just the same and Aizen sets his hands carefully on those broad but slim shoulders, pleased when Ulquiorra meets his eyes fearlessly. “You can undress me.”

When Aizen had recovered Grimmjow from the dungeon floor and took him back to his room, there was no way to avoid the magnificent length of his naked body, but Aizen hasn’t yet seen Ulquiorra naked and he wants the experience. With a practiced touch, he strips Ulquiorra out of his shirt, carefully not to let his hair get tugged too hard by the collar slipping over his head, brushing his bangs back out of his eyes before his own gaze sweeps down Ulquiorra’s torso.

Naked from the waist up, Ulquiorra is a vision; Aizen had felt the muscles in his back but now he can see Ulquiorra must work out on his own, his shoulders broad despite his body being on the slim side. He leans more toward visible definition than bulk and Aizen hums thoughtfully at the sight of him, how his pale skin shows a visible flush far too well, pink creeping down his neck. Aizen follows the trail with a fingertip before his hand skips down, thumbing over one pale pink nipple just to hear Ulquiorra’s sudden sharp intake of breath.

If Grimmjow is half as sensitive as his partner is, this is going to be very enjoyable.

“You’re gorgeous.” Aizen unfastens Ulquiorra’s jeans and the loose denim slides away from his waist, revealing nothing underneath. “What a pleasant surprise. Let me look at you.”

He coaxes Ulquiorra into turning in a slow circle for him, amused that his cock is already twitching with interest, petting a hand over the tight curve of his ass. Everything about him is compact and Aizen can appreciate that unique beauty. Then he sets Ulquiorra down in the chair, setting the scissors in his hand with the reminder not to accidentally cut himself. Though he still has the concern Ulquiorra is going to hover and make this difficult, he wants Ulquiorra to have some measure of control, and he wants Grimmjow to trust him. The scissors are just symbolic of that; Aizen has no intention of letting Grimmjow become so upset they have to cut him free.

“We’re going to be using the color system since it’s easy to remember and easy to understand.” Aizen returns to the bed with Grimmjow, who tosses his towel aside and eagerly crawls up to him, resting on his knees. “Do you know how the color system works, Grimmjow?”

“Green means go, yellow means…” Grimmjow pauses and Aizen touches the side of his neck, fingers brushing over his pulse point. “Yellow is like a way to say it’s starting to get a little too intense and to back off without totally stopping everything. Am I wording that right?”

Aizen nods. “You are, sub. I’m very proud of you. Now what does red mean?”

“Red means stop.” Grimmjow must have noticed the endearment sprinkled in, his cheeks flushing a much brighter pink as he tugs at the bottom of his tank top. “S-Sir.”

“Very good. Come here.” Aizen pats his lap and Grimmjow climbs into it obediently, his broad thighs bracketing Aizen’s own as he drapes his arms carefully around Aizen’s shoulders, fingers linking sweetly at the back of his neck. Oh, a submissive like Grimmjow is  _ dangerous _ for his health. “You will address me as Sir. If I ask you a question, you will respond promptly.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow nods along with his words, and Aizen is pleased with him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ulquiorra shifting slightly in his seat.

“Failure to respond after I’ve asked you the question three times will result in me stopping the scene on my own. If you can’t answer me, you can’t consent.” Aizen cups Grimmjow’s jaw, smiling when Grimmjow presses into the touch, pale blue eyelashes fluttering as a soft sigh leaves his lips. “I want to focus on touch and sensation with you. I want to pile it on until you’re straining for release. I can do so without causing you any harm.”

Grimmjow nips at the pad of his thumb and Aizen sighs softly at him. “Okay, Sir. I understand. And you’ll wait for my signal before you try the earplugs, right?”

“Right, sub. I will wait until you’re ready. Now.” Aizen thumbs over Grimmjow’s lower lip, feeling how soft it is, how plush. He’s going to have to steal many,  _ many _ kisses tonight. “Some sensation may be strange or overwhelming to you. If you want me to stop that particular sensation before I’ve decided to stop, use yellow. If you want me to stop all sensation and untie you and remove the blindfold, use red. I’ll ask for a color periodically to check on you.”

“Understood, Sir.” Grimmjow tilts his head slightly, dragging those sinfully full lips against the cup of Aizen’s palm, never breaking eye contact as he does. “Can I ask a question, Sir?”

“Of course. I want to answer all your questions.” Aizen is glad he feels free to ask, that he’s adjusting to the dialogue well, that he can feel Grimmjow’s cock hard under his sweatpants.

Grimmjow swipes the wet pink of his tongue against Aizen’s palm, his eyes glittering deviously as he leans just a little closer, rocking his hips down so Aizen can’t possibly miss his erection. “Are you going to fuck me if I’m good and I take everything well?”

What a question. Aizen could swoon. Instead, he combs his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair, ghosting a kiss against his mouth until Grimmjow whimpers up at him. “If that’s what you want, that can be the reward you can achieve. If you are able to take what I give you, and you perform adequately, then I’ll fuck you to completion while your boyfriend watches us.”

The mention of Ulquiorra has Grimmjow jolting, turning to look at him, and the moment their gazes meet the heat in the room ratchets up another several degrees. In his casual t-shirt and jeans, Aizen is starting to feel uncomfortably warm but he says nothing, eyeing the two of them, wondering if that might have been a step too far, a slip of the tongue.

Ulquiorra wets his lips, his voice soft and warm like velvet. “I would like to see that.”

_ Perfection. _

“I would like you to undress for me, sub.” Aizen pats Grimmjow’s jaw, wildly unsurprised when Grimmjow scrambles off of his lap to obey him as quickly as possible.

He has a good point of view for this, watching Grimmjow pull his tank top up over his head, all hard muscle and clean lines and soft skin. The scar Grimmjow had mentioned is visible to his eyes, a rough patch of scar tissue that Aizen wants to caress with his fingertips, his tongue, just to feel the difference in texture with Grimmjow’s unscarred skin. In the face of this, though, with Grimmjow’s easy confidence on display, Aizen feels foolish for ever worrying.

There is nothing under the sweatpants, which Aizen suspected. As impressive as he is up top, the combination of his already half-hard cock, thick thighs, and gorgeous ass make just as nice of a picture. Aizen hums as he watches Grimmjow preen for him, leaning back against the pillows, legs parted so Aizen can look at him as much as he wants. Oh, he wants to get his hands all over every square centimeter of this man tonight, which is what he plans to do.

“Sit with your back straight facing the pillows.” Aizen retrieves the rope, uncoiling it as he waits for Grimmjow to obey. “Bring your arms together behind your back. Deep breaths for me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow does as asked, and he makes such a lovely picture.

Shibari is an artform as much as it is anything else, using knots to bind and create fluid and lovely images that attract the eye and lead it. Aizen is careful as he ties Grimmjow’s arms, not pulling the rope tight enough to bite into his skin, not wanting to leave noticeable marks because any of his clients would be able to see them. Instead, he focuses on making them just tight enough to be suitable, humming softly to give Grimmjow something to hold onto while he works. When he’s finished, he sits back to admire his handiwork, the way the white looks against Grimmjow’s skin just slightly kissed by the sun, healthy and glowing.

Aizen thinks Sun-Sung would be very proud of the improvement of his shibari skills since he started taking her classes and makes a note to learn double rope soon.

“Very beautiful.” Aizen leans in, wrapping his arms around Grimmjow from behind, pressing a kiss to the roundest part of his shoulder. “How are you feeling, sub? Are you doing okay?”

Grimmjow leans back into him, his hair brushing against Aizen’s cheek. “Yes, Sir. It’s… Strange, I guess. My shoulders aren’t straining and it’s not too tight. But I can feel the ropes.”

_ You’re already indulging in the spirit of the evening. How reassuring. _ “Very good. I chose shibari because you can feel those ropes. As I said, tonight is about making you feel everything.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow’s eyelashes flutter again and he leans in close, his nose pressing against Aizen’s cheek, breath curling warm against his skin.

Aizen guides Grimmjow to lie on his chest, flattening his body against the mattress, his legs stretched out along the bedspread, cheek resting against a pillow. The bond is not so tight that it’s uncomfortable and Grimmjow’s breathing slowly evens out, Aizen’s fingers running through his hair until he looks almost ready to drift off like this. Then and only then does Aizen retrieve the blindfold, slipping ti over those beautiful baby blue eyes, tying it carefully behind his head. He has to be wary of snagging Grimmjow’s hair, the strands not long enough to properly pin back anywhere but just long enough to catch in the soft silk.

“You’re handling all of this very well, sub.” Aizen lets Grimmjow settle before running a hand down his spine, letting him feel the difference in touch with just the blindfold, just skin on skin to begin with. “Does it feel different? Are you aware of more than you were?”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow squirms a little under him and Aizen laughs softly at the sight.

His fingers trace a path down Grimmjow’s spine, admiring the muscles in his broad back, the delicate slope down to his slender waist. Aizen pets a hand over his ass because he can, long strokes that make Grimmjow shift under his touch, no doubt pressing his cock down into the bedspread beneath him. For now, that’s fine. It might be meaner to let him work himself up just to cut him off, remind him that orgasms are earned and not freely taken, but Aizen will have to expand his horizons eventually and this is an easy way to do so.

“I’m going to begin now, sub. Color?” Aizen requests, giving Grimmjow’s ass a gentle pat.

Grimmjow sucks in a breath, pushes up into his hand. “Green, Sir.”

“Very good. I’m getting off the bed, but I’ll be right here next to you while I get what I need.” Aizen slides off of the mattress, pausing to take in Ulquiorra’s state in the chair— face flushed, lips bitten red, cock curving gracefully against his stomach— and smiles at him before moving to the nightstand, delicately picking up the long white feather there.

He has plans for Ulquiorra before the end of the evening. All he has to do now is see how long it takes Ulquiorra to crack and fall to his knees begging to touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow just when it gets good and i cut you guys off there huh =|c
> 
> just kidding, this is just light and necessary set-up for the scene itself where the point of view will shift once more!
> 
> also a big thank you for all of the support. this is the first time i've been able to write so much for nano in like the first week, i've never gotten so far ahead as to get more than halfway there in less than one week. the support is definitely a big factor, i'm sure, so thank you so much!


	7. a study in sensation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** slightest mention of sharp objects
> 
>  **sexual contente:** explicit sexual content, bondage in the form of shibari, sensory deprivation/sensation play, a hand job, rimming, anal sex, and this is a blatant bdsm scene so you're walking into a power dynamic as well

The blindfold is thicker than Grimmjow expects and he wonders if Aizen has doubled the fabric over before tying it in place. At any rate, it blocks even his peripheral vision and though he tries not to shift too much on the bedspread beneath him while Aizen walks around the bed, it’s hard to remain still for any length of time. He can still hear him, his soft footsteps on the carpet and  _ something _ that must be Aizen shifting through the toys he brought with him, the ones he laid out so carefully for inspection before ever trying anything, before ever  _ touching _ him.

Grimmjow is hard, his cock already aching for touch trapped beneath his stomach and the bedspread beneath and though he tries to keep his hips still, it’s hard. He can feel the cotton rope pressing against his skin, not too tight but a steady presence that reminds him that he’s at Aizen’s mercy, trussed up for his entertainment, for his intense gaze.

God, it took everything in Grimmjow not to  _ wilt _ when Aizen looked at him like that, when the air of authority around him subtly changed and deepened into something more, something that begged Grimmjow’s submission and desire to please. It was so  _ easy _ to respond to him like that, the words coming faster than Grimmjow expected, the title falling so easily from his lips that Ulquiorra would have laughed if he wasn’t so turned on by the situation. There was something wickedly sexy about Ulquiorra’s naked body and the glint of silver scissors on the arm of the chair, a reminder that he’s in the palm of Ulquiorra’s hand as well.

It’s all so much and Grimmjow squirms down against the bedspread once more, panting softly as the soft fabric rubs against his hard cock. There’s already pre-come beading at the tip of his cock, dampening the fabric and leaving a slick spot on his skin. Ulquiorra is going to kill him. He’d just laundered the sheets and bedspread for Aizen’s arrival.

A hand on the small of his back stills his movements even though there is no command. He can almost  _ feel _ it through the touch of Aizen’s hand, the pressure of his fingertips. “Easy, Grimmjow.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Grimmjow bites down on the inside of his cheek, fights the urge to arch up into that touch because Aizen wants him to stop moving even though he just wants more of Aizen’s hands on his naked body. On his ass again,  _ fuck, _ that had felt so good, so full of promise.

The hand on his back disappears and he tries not to be disappointed, and then something light and delicate strokes down the length of his spine. A gasp slips from his lips before he can stop himself, his skin seemingly hyper aware of every small touch, every brush of the implement against his bare flesh. His nerves feel more honed like this and he pants softly, fights the urge to wriggle under whatever this is. When it comes down  _ harder _ — But it’s not really hard, still soft and it makes him shiver all over, skin prickling and oversensitive.

The feather. It hits him then, the white feather Aizen had laid out for his approval, looking so soft and sweetly innocent next to everything else. Grimmjow wonders if Ulquiorra had told Aizen he was ticklish but can’t think too hard about it right now, trying to keep his body still even as his shivers and trembles and tries not to laugh as the feather dances across his back and over his bound arms, over his ass and between his thighs where the skin is far too sensitive and soft to touch. Aizen seems to know, damn him, focusing on a few spots that make Grimmjow giggle.

“Very sweet.” Aizen’s hand comes to rest on top of Grimmjow’s own and Grimmjow grabs for his fingers, calm when Aizen lets him hold on. “You’re very cute. Don’t hold back on my account.”

_ Cute. _ Grimmjow wrinkles his nose at the word torn between deciding if it’s meant to be praise or if Aizen is looking down on him— And then the feather ghosts over his balls and he chokes on a laugh. It’s unexpected, the texture making him rut down into the bed once more until Aizen squeezes his hands, prompting him to try to still his body once more.

“You have such lovely legs, sub.” The feather trails down the back of one knee and Grimmjow’s leg kicks in reaction, a half-laugh trapped in his throat. “If you’re good, I’ll have them wrapped around my waist tonight and you can show me just how strong they are.”

When Aizen tickles the bottom of his foot, Grimmjow yanks it away, yelping when Aizen immediately catches him and mercilessly returns to the task at hand. It’s only when Grimmjow’s entire body is squirming and his lungs ache from laughter that Aizen stops, smoothing one warm hand around the path the feather had traveled. He doesn’t linger in any one spot— though Grimmjow holds out the hope he will when Aizen’s hand comes between his legs.

But he doesn’t. His fingers brush a path up Grimmjow’s spine, thumb stroking over his hairline before the touch is gone altogether. “Very good, sub. Give me a color.”

_ Already?  _ “Green, Sir.”  _ Does he think I can’t handle something so easy? It was just a feather. _

“Excellent.” A soft kiss is pressed to the back of his neck and Grimmjow instantly tells himself to shut up, that Aizen can pamper him and worry over him all he wants if he’s going to get rewards for it. “I’m going to switch to something a little more hands-on now.”

Grimmjow wonders what that means, missing Aizen’s warmth as soon as it’s gone— And he wonders what Ulquiorra is doing right now. If he’s watching. If he’s touching himself to the sight of Aizen’s hands on Grimmjow’s body, the sight of him tied up and—

“Ulquiorra!” The stern tone of Aizen’s voice sends a bolt of heat straight to Grimmjow’s groin and he groans suddenly, startled. “When did I give your permission to masturbate?”

The question has Grimmjow biting down on the bedspread to avoid making more embarrassing noises, his eyes wide behind the blindfold.  _ He’s jerking off to this, holy shit. _

When he speaks, Ulquiorra’s voice is beautifully strained and unusually subdued, not at all like his usual demeanor. “I wasn’t aware I wasn’t allowed to do such a thing, or that your control extended to me. Do you intend on tying my hands if I don’t obey your orders?”

The question is… It  _ sounds _ like a joke but when Aizen replies, his voice is still commanding, still no nonsense. “I will if I have to. You are  _ spectating. _ You are not allowed to touch yourself unless you ask permission. Unless, that is, you plan on sitting there and depriving yourself of orgasm until I’m satisfied with you. As you are part of this scene, my control does extend to you.”

_ Fuck, Quiorra. _ Grimmjow wishes he could see. He  _ wishes _ because he can just imagine the way Ulquiorra’s mouth would twist at this, the defiance in his eyes.

There are more footsteps and Grimmjow strains to listen, shocked when he hears a sudden rustle of fabric, Ulquiorra’s soft gasp followed by a sweeter yelp.  _ What’s going on? _

“I want you to enjoy yourself, as I said.” Aizen’s voice is honey-sweet and Grimmjow  _ strains _ and— Oh. Aizen is most definitely touching Ulquiorra’s dick, probably jerking him off while he talks to him, and he can’t see but he paints himself a picture, Aizen leaning over Ulquiorra with a hand between his legs, right in front of him so Ulquiorra has to meet his eyes. “But you’re going to miss the best part of the show if you come now. So be good, and don’t touch yourself for me.”

Ulquiorra’s swallow is so loud Grimmjow can hear his throat slick. “All right. I trust you.”

_ Fuck! _ Grimmjow’s hips roll down against the bed hard and he whines pitifully.

“Ah, ah, Grimmjow.” The way Aizen’s voice can change in tone so rapidly is dizzying, but his hand is on Grimmjow’s back again, pressing between his shoulder blades, a firm and insistent weight. “Be good for me. If you are, I might even let you look at him when he comes.”

Aizen Sosuke is an evil, evil man. Grimmjow is so stupidly happy at that idea.

Footsteps once more and more shuffling around, and Grimmjow is just beginning to grow impatient with the lack of touch when something soft brushes down his spine in a soft kiss of movement that he stills instantly, trying to figure out what it is. But this one is much easier, soft fur sliding against his skin, the strange fur mitten he’d seen on the mattress. He didn’t know what Aizen was going to do with it but now it’s clear, his hand sliding down Grimmjow’s back between his arms in slow strokes, dancing over his fingers before petting down his ass. It’s so  _ soft _ that Grimmjow can’t help but press into it for more, enjoying the texture on his skin.

“I thought you’d like this. You take comfort in soft things.” Aizen’s hand— warm skin— settles on his hip, holding him in place while the fur teases his inner thighs. “The hoodie, for instance.”

_ Oh. _ So he’d noticed that, and he’d taken it into account. “Yes, Sir. It feels nice.”

Aizen hums thoughtfully and then the fur is dragging over Grimmjow’s balls, not teasing so much this time and he bites down on the bedspread. “I’m glad to hear that, darling.”

_ Darling, _ again. The pet names had come to easily when he was taking care of Grimmjow that once, so sweetly, and part of him purrs just a little at the fact Aizen is talking to  _ him _ — And then the fur drags between his cheeks, up the crack of his ass and he’s hot, suddenly, his hole twitching against the soft fabric, the ghost of a touch he hasn’t earned yet.

He whines in frustration when Aizen’s hand strokes down the backs of his thighs, fingers curling into fists as he tries to calm down.  _ It’s only the second thing he brought. Stop it. Stop moving. _

“Your reactions are so enlightening. It’s been a while since I’ve played with a first time submissive and I missed how new everything is. And your reactions are so honest.” It’s  _ praise _ and Grimmjow warms under it, almost can’t handle how tender Aizen’s voice sounds in his ear and  _ when _ did he get that close? How did Grimmjow miss it? “You’re beautiful, sub.”

If he keeps this shit up, Grimmjow is going to  _ die. _ He’s just going to fucking die on the spot.

“Soft is nice, isn’t it?” Aizen takes the glove away entirely and Grimmjow tries not to pout at the loss. “We’re going to try something a little harder, now. I hope you’ll enjoy it, too.”

Harder. Grimmjow tries to remember what he’d brought that looked hard and listens for a clue, but Aizen’s hands are back on his body before he can properly think of anything. And it’s… It  _ prickles _ in a way that almost hurts but not quite, his skin so sensitive from the tickling, the fur that it feels tenfold what it should. Aizen’s hands— Gloves. The black leather gloves, the ones that had looked so tame rasp over his skin, drawing slim lines over his flesh and Grimmjow cries out in shock, in confusion because he doesn’t know— But it feels  _ good _ somehow, makes him squirm and rut down against the bed and Aizen’s touch is so  _ light. _

“Give me a color, sub,” Aizen murmurs, and he sounds amused but pleased.

“Green, Sir!” Grimmjow gasps when Aizen drags the gloves over his bound arms, muscles straining against the strange sensation that raises heat to the top of his skin. “O-Oh, fuck.”

“These gloves have plastic spikes pushed through the leather. They’re admittedly duller than most of those you’ll find in Las Noches, but I didn’t want to hurt you by starting with metal.” Aizen runs the spikes over his fingers and Grimmjow half-moans into the bedspread because it’s strange but good, intense in a wholly pleasurable way. “Do you like them?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” Fuck, it’s so hard to think when Aizen is touching him like this.

“Excellent. They’re a favorite of mine.” And then Aizen’s hands stroke over his ass and Grimmjow’s brain just shuts all the way down.

His ass is already sensitive, Aizen’s been fondling it especially and the fur awakened all sorts of nerves that the gloves now torment. It’s awful but amazing and Grimmjow presses up into the touch, moaning audibly at how they drag over his skin, how it  _ almost _ hurts but not quite and he keeps waiting for it to be painful but it never is, the anticipation clawing at his gut, his body tensing and shuddering and trembling. When Aizen strokes a single finger along his crack, down his perineum and over his balls, Grimmjow groans pitifully and spreads his thighs wider.

“This is such a lovely view.” Aizen’s hands stroke up and down and over his thighs; Grimmjow’s brain feels a bit like mush now as he pants and shudders. “Your skin’s flushed such a pretty pink for me and I’ve done so little. Your hands keep clenching and unclenching and the muscles on the insides of your thighs are trembling. Even your feet occasionally kick out in little subconscious movements. I love watching you slowly lose control of your bodily reactions.”

“Sir,” Grimmjow whines, because he can’t just  _ say _ these things, and then he’s crying out when Aizen’s hands stroke up over his ass once more, surprising him.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he hears across the room, Ulquiorra’s voice startling him, catching his attention.

Aizen chuckles, and the moment his hands are off of Grimmjow’s body, there’s an almost-buzz thrumming through his skin. He’s so sensitive and hot and he just wants to be  _ touched _ but it almost feels like touch would be too much now, too sudden. “Do you want to feel them, Ulquiorra? I can give you a taste, you look so curious.”

Grimmjow’s mouth falls open at the thought, black leather dragging over Ulquiorra’s bare white skin, the spikes—-  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck! _

“I…” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft, hesitant. “Okay. Just a little, though.”

“Of course.” Aizen steps away from the bed and Grimmjow listens, and pleasure bolts white hot through his veins when Ulquiorra makes a soft little pitiful sound. “Ah, how lovely.”

He wants to  _ see _ but not being able to see is making it better, somehow.

“All right, sub.” Aizen’s attention is back on him before he’s prepared for it and Grimmjow lifts his head a little to show he’s listening. “How would you feel about the earplugs now?”

_ Oh. _ “Um.” Grimmjow debates, chewing on his bottom lip. “What else is there to do?”

“Just temperature play. Cold and hot, not  _ too _ cold or hot because I don’t like the idea of burning my submissive’s skin.” Aizen’s bare hand is on his back once more, easing the slight tension in his muscles until he feels boneless. “I have packs for that. I want to use them on you to watch your reactions and listen to the sounds you make. If you safeword, I can still hear you.”

_ Cold and hot. That’s easy enough. _ “Okay, Sir. You can… You can put them in.”

It strikes Grimmjow that Aizen has been careful of him in more ways than one and it shows as he carefully cradles Grimmjow’s jaw in his hand, tilting his head carefully to put the earplugs in. They cut the noise in the room to nothing and Grimmjow swallows hard, letting his head come to rest on top of the bedspread once more, not even able to track Aizen’s movements with his ears now. It’s a little frightening at first but  _ titillating  _ at the same time, and he’s safe. Aizen won’t hurt him, and Ulquiorra is right there if he needs him. Grimmjow is fine, he’s safe, he  _ trusts _ them.

The weight on the bed shifts and that’s the only warning he has before something cold touches his skin, startling a noise out of him he can’t quite make out but he can feel it in his throat, choked and strangled and garbled. It’s fucking  _ freezing _ and he shivers at the touch, the pressure on his spine, trailing down so slowly, spreading a chill everywhere it touches. The bedroom is warm but it doesn’t protect him this close.

When it drifts over his fingers, he can feel the shape of the material, the texture of it. It’s just an ice pack, no doubt one where you just crack it and it freezes. Safe to use.

There’s no preparing for the way it feels on his ass, pressing against the skin and it registers, just barely, that every space of skin it sweeps across calms after the prickles had left him almost too sensitive to want more. The consideration makes his breath catch in his throat and then he’s yelping when the ice pack trails between his cheeks,  _ too _ cold against his balls.

Not cold enough for him to safeword. Not even close.

Once Aizen has soothed all of the prickling sensation out of his skin, there’s nothing for a minute and Grimmjow settles down against the mattress to wait for more. He feels so… So  _ strange _ like this, tied up and unable to see, to hear, to do anything but  _ feel _ and be  _ watched _ and it makes him hard, makes the aching between his thighs almost unbearable.

The heat is better. Another pack from the way it feels, hot against his skin, chasing the numbness out of his skin and awakening his nerves once more, but slowly and pleasantly. He moans as he presses up into it, enjoying the way it soothes his muscles and his skin, gasping out around the way it feels against his ass, over his halls, the insides of his thighs. Hell, he’d let Aizen put the damned thing on his dick for as good as it feels.

He’s not expecting  _ wet, _ Aizen’s mouth trailing hungry and greedy kisses over his skin once the heat pack has been removed. Grimmjow wails at the feel of it, arches up into his mouth, against his tongue tracing the same path the various textures had. A hand on Grimmjow’s shoulder blades and another gripping his hip keep him pinned to the bedspread, Aizen’s tongue sweeping hot and wet over his skin. Tender kisses against his knuckles, hot open-mouthed kisses against the palms of his hand. He can almost  _ imagine _ how it sounds.

And he expects Aizen to stop. He’s not expecting thumbs digging into his ass cheeks, pulling them apart so Aizen’s tongue can swipe over his hole. And then he expects him to just keep  _ going,  _ kiss down Grimmjow’s thighs. But he doesn’t. He licks over and around his hole so much Grimmjow can feel it twitching, can feel himself clenching around  _ nothing _ and then Aizen’s tongue spears him open, lapping inside of him, wringing another cry from his lips.

Aizen’s hands, broad and warm, lift his hips and shove his thighs apart and he realizes that  _ fuck, _ Aizen used cold and hot  _ last _ to relax him so that it’s easy to ragdoll him, manhandle Grimmjow’s relaxed and sated body as much as he wants. He gets Grimmjow’s ass up in the air and then fucks him open with his tongue, holding his thighs wide apart, his cock still hot and throbbing between them but he can hardly think about that. All he can think about is Aizen’s  _ mouth, _ lips rasping against his skin, tongue teasing his rim before spreading it open again.

He could come on this alone. He really could. This would be all he needs.

It feels like an impossible length of time passes, Aizen holding his thighs wide until they ache, licking  _ hard _ over his perineum before shoving his tongue back inside of him. When he finally stops, Grimmjow slumps down onto the bedspread, feeling wet and open and mouthing a sob against the sheets because he feels so  _ empty _ .

Aizen’s hands are on his head, pulling the earplugs out. “Give me a color, Grimmjow.

“Green.” Grimmjow yelps when Aizen’s hand squeezes the back of his neck. “Sir! Green, Sir.”

“Excellent.” The blindfold is ripped away and Grimmjow blinks and wonders when Aizen had dimmed the lights in the room so that they wouldn’t hurt his eyes when they were revealed again. “Look at your lover. Look at what you’ve done to him with your alluring reactions.”

Before he can, Aizen’s hand is in his hair and he thinks  _ command, _ not  _ request _ before his head is jerked and his eyes are on Ulquiorra. A pitiful little noise escapes his throat at the sight of Ulquiorra with his thighs spread wide to accommodate his erection, flushed red and leaking at the tip. Ulquiorra’s fingers are digging into the arms of the chair no doubt with the force of trying to keep from touching his cock, his face flushed hot, sweat dampening his skin.

“He’s beautiful. Made all the more so by the pleasure he takes in watching you submit to me.” Aizen breathes these words into Grimmjow’s ear before biting down on the lobe, tugging it gently until Grimmjow whimpers softly, eyelids heavy. “You’ve done very well, sub, and I believe that you should be rewarded for your efforts. Would you like that?”

Grimmjow’s eyes widen and he turns his head, nuzzling against Aizen’s cheek, drinking him in. His warmth, the strength of the arms keeping Grimmjow pinned in place more than the ropes do. “Please, Sir,” he mewls, pressing his ass up against Aizen’s crotch. “Pl-please, please—”

Aizen moans softly in his ear and Grimmjow’s breath hitches at the sound, the audible evidence of Aizen’s pleasure. “Of course. You’ve earned it. Would you like to watch me make your lover come before I take care of your needs? A way to whet your appetite.”

The thought of Aizen’s hands on Ulquiorra’s body once more has Grimmjow almost wailing as he presses up into Aizen’s touch, Aizen’s warmth. “Please, Sir, please please please.”

“You’re such a sweet and selfless man.” Aizen tilts his jaw and kisses him, and Grimmjow makes a strained noise against his lips. They’re so soft, slightly swollen from where they’ve been on his body, sweet and warm against his own and Aizen licks through his mouth like he owns it, like he’s always been welcome here. “I’m going to turn you onto your side so you can watch us. Let me know if it strains your shoulder unnecessarily.”

He rolls Grimmjow over like Grimmjow weighs  _ nothing _ and gets off of the bed, sure strides leading him to where Ulquiorra sits with wide eyes and trembling limbs and a fool would have thought he was afraid. But Grimmjow knows Ulquiorra well, can see the molten heat in his eyes and the flush spreading down his chest, the way his hips jolt and his cock twitches when Aizen comes to stand beside the chair. He  _ wants _ this, is almost vibrating with anticipation.

“May I, Ulquiorra?” Aizen asks, half-walking around to the back of the chair, leaning his weight against it, leaning  _ over _ it, almost dwarfing Ulquiorra in this position. “You have a gorgeous cock.”

_ Who just says things like that? _ Grimmjow wonders, but he  _ knows _ Ulquiorra does. But now he can watch Ulquiorra fluster and stutter under such words, chewing on his lips.

“Yes.” Ulquiorra squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard. “You may, ah, touch— Oh!”

The last sound is a squeak more than anything else, shock slamming Ulquiorra’s eyes open when Aizen leans down and takes his cock in hand, stroking along the length of it without any hesitation. There’s always something Grimmjow  _ gets _ out of this but it’s usually him who’s doing it, usually his hands on Ulquiorra’s smaller body producing the effect he loves so much. But Aizen’s hands are just as big and a hell of a lot more casual than they have any right to be. It makes the whole thing hotter, makes it all the sweeter when Ulquiorra whines softly.

The other hand slips under Ulquiorra’s jaw, holding his head steady so that he’s facing the bed, and oh  _ fuck _ when his eyes meet Grimmjow’s. They’re soft and a little hazy like Aizen is just stealing the thoughts right out of his head with nothing more than the touch of his hand, the aura of command that hangs around him like a cape befitting a king.

“Look at your darling,” Aizen murmurs, his voice so soft like silk. “Trussed up and needy. Hard, leaking all over your bedspread. You’ll have to replace it before you go to bed.”

Ulquiorra swallows, half-nuzzles into Aizen’s hand. “And I just washed it today, too.”

“Did you wash it because I was coming over?” Aizen asks, chuckling when Ulquiorra nods, panting against his palm. “What a thoughtful man you are, cleaning up for me.”

The hand on Ulquiorra’s cock strokes him languidly, fingers brushing over the head of his cock to smear pre-come over the length of it. The sound is  _ obscene _ , slick skin sliding against slick skin and Ulquiorra pants softly, eyes lidded even as he stares at Grimmjow from across the room. His nipples are hard, Grimmjow can see that from here and what he wouldn’t give to lick them, to  _ bite _ them just to hear Ulquiorra’s high breathy cry.

Instead he just watches, fingers curling and uncurling at his back, cock leaking onto the bedspread Ulquiorra had washed today, watching Aizen jerk Ulquiorra off. Watching Ulquiorra’s hips start to hiccup, rising just a little to meet Aizen’s strokes, thrusting up into his hand. The flush across his porcelain skin deepens further, pink sinking into red and Ulquiorra is normally not so vocal but his little gasps turn into deeper moans, ones that reverberate down Grimmjow’s spine, settling heavy in his gut until he squirms on the bed.

And Aizen does not miss it, leaning down so that his lips brush against Ulquiorra’s dark hair with every word. “Look at him. He’s so excited just watching you respond to my touch. Watching you fall apart for me. You’re  _ gorgeous _ and he’s dying to touch you, but he can’t. Not from there.”

Ulquiorra makes a choked little sound and squeezes his eyes shut, dragging them back open when Aizen’s hand stills on his dick. “S-sorry, I just… It’s just so… I c-can’t—”

“You can, Ulquiorra. Just look at him. Look how eager he is to be touched, to be fucked.” Aizen’s hand speeds up and the hand on Ulquiorra’s jaw tightens, Aizen’s thumb dragging across Ulquiorra’s lower lip until his mouth opens. “Tell me what you want, Ulquiorra. Say it for me.”

“I w-want to come.” Ulquiorra gulps air and squirms in the seat, and he’s so  _ close _ and Grimmjow knows, he’s seen Ulquiorra so close to orgasm, he’s almost there, almost—

Aizen leans down to kiss him, and Grimmjow’s mouth falls open at the sight of them.

The hand on Ulquiorra’s cock doesn’t stop moving, Aizen’s wrist twisting just enough, stroking Ulquiorra with rapid and firm movements while he ravages Ulquiorra’s mouth, tongue sweeping between his lips, winking into sight just enough that Grimmjow  _ knows _ it’s there. He watches Ulquiorra arch, one hand grasping for Aizen, wrapping around the back of his neck while his body rises out of the chair, and he can  _ hear _ it. Ulquiorra’s desperate little pitiful sounds while he clings to Aizen, lets Aizen play his body like a musical instrument.

When he comes it’s a sight. Ulquiorra’s back bowed, hips bucking wildly up into Aizen’s fist, but Aizen is so controlled, so firm in his movements. He steps away after Ulquiorra’s orgasm ebbs away into aftershocks, examining the semen wet and hot on his fingers.

They are  _ so _ in over their heads with him. And Grimmjow has exactly zero regrets.

“I toldyou that you’d get your completion, Ulquiorra.” Aizen runs his tongue along one finger and Grimmjow moans at the sight. “Oh, darling, my apologies. Do you want me to share?”

He walks over to the bed and offers Grimmjow his hand, incredibly, impossibly, but Grimmjow goes with it. Leans forward and licks the come off of his hand, sucking Aizen’s fingers between his lips, looking up at him all the while. There’s the slightest hint of a flush in Aizen’s face but otherwise he’s so controlled, so in charge, that it’s hard not to want to fall apart at his feet and give everything over to him for his pleasure and his enjoyment.

“Very good job.” Aizen pets down his face with his spit-dampened hand and Grimmjow only presses into the touch, mouthing kisses against Aizen’s soft palm. “Do you want me to fuck you now? You’ve been such a good boy for me, sub. I think you’ve well earned it.”

Aizen rolls him onto his back and blankets Grimmjow’s body with the heat of his own, leaning down to kiss him, his jeans and shirt rubbing against Grimmjow’s bare skin and wresting a whimper from his lips. Then Aizen steps away from him again and Grimmjow tries not to whine after him, plead for him to come back because he has to be patient, he  _ knows _ he has to be patient but still. It’s hard. He just wants Aizen, he wants Aizen  _ inside _ of him.

He almost swallows his tongue when Aizen turns so his back is to Grimmjow, tugging his shirt up and over his head, letting it dangle from the tips of his fingers before he drops it to the carpet. He’s  _ gorgeous _ and Grimmjow is, okay,  _ maybe _ he’s a little jealous because where the fuck has Aizen been working out? Because wow that  _ body, _ he’s not as bulky as Grimmjow is but he doesn’t need to be, filled out along the lines of his body so well and Grimmjow’s mouth waters because he can almost feel those muscles tensing and flexing under his fingertips.

It really sucks that he’s not allowed to touch.

The jeans slide down Aizen’s hips and there’s just plain black briefs underneath but he leaves those in place, and Grimmjow wonders but doesn’t ask. It’s probably a comfort thing, and he’s not going to push it. It’s erotic not to see what’s beneath anyway, to be teased with that thought of what’s hiding under there without being able to see instead.

Aizen picks up his bag and sets it on the bed, raising an eyebrow at Grimmjow as he removes something that looks like black leather, strappy— It’s a harness. “You know what’s good about this? I can fuck you for as long as I’d choose to without ever having to worry about not being able to hold out for you. And toys stay hard. It’s useful, isn’t it?”

Grimmjow is going to  _ die _ and he’s going to enjoy every last minute of it. “Yes, Sir, absolutely.”

There’s something, a flicker in Aizen’s eyes, but then it’s gone and replaced with that liquid warmth, removing an attachment from his bag that’s the same bright icy blue of Grimmjow’s hair and isn’t that  _ polite _ of him to color match. “Will this suffice? Or do we need a different size?”

“That one’s perfect.” Grimmjow eyes the shape of it, the veins, the fact it looks really fucking realistic and he wants it buried in to the hilt, wants to feel that opening him up. It looks thicker than Ulquiorra which means it’s going to be an intense stretch. “You can use it, Sir.”

He watches Aizen assemble the harness and step into it, the leather hugging his hips and the black leather over the black probably cotton is a nice look, sexy as he comes to kneel between Grimmjow’s thighs once more. Without hesitation, Grimmjow spreads them side and hugs his knees to his chest. And it must be the eagerness, the excitement, but Aizen sits back on his heels a little, cups a hand over his mouth to smother soft laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners and it makes something stupidly warm bloom in Grimmjow’s gut.

Or he’s just hot because he’s  _ been _ hot ever since Aizen first touched his bare skin.

“You’re such an excitable man.” Aizen has retrieved lube from the nightstand too apparently, slicks his fingers with it before they drift low, leaving a path of sticky coolness along Grimmjow’s shaft, over his balls and under them. Two fingers press against his perineum and he wheezes and then Aizen traces them over his hole, dipping just his fingertips inside. “Ah, you’re so hot inside, Grimmjow. Your entire body feels like it’s burning just for me.”

He slides his fingers in and they go easy; Grimmjow might be keyed up but he’s relaxed at the same time, his body open and willing. He wants this, the brush of Aizen’s fingers deep inside of him, pressing against his inner walls not like he’s looking for Grimmjow’s prostate but like he’s purposefully ignoring it, testng his reactions to other spots instead. When his fingers finally curl up, Grimmjow moans, his head falling back. His thighs jump and tremble while Aizen massages that one spot, thumb sliding slick against his perineum. The double stimulation is almost too much for him to handle, his head swimming as his thighs fall wider apart.

Three fingers has him panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the sensation, the stretch of Aizen’s fingers inside of him. He bites back a whine when they’re gone and peels his eyes open to watch Aizen slick the shiny blue surface of his cock, gripping the base firmly in one hand, pressing the wet head against Grimmjow’s rim and sinking the head in.

“F-fuck.” Grimmjow whimpers pitifully and it’s not pain, it’s pure pleasure, the stretch making his stomach tighten and his cock throb. “D-don’t stop, Sir, it feels so good.”

Aizen leans over him, the motion sliding him in deeper and Grimmjow’s eyes almost cross at the slick slide, the stretch, how  _ full _ he feels on Aizen’s cock. “Of course not, sub. This is the reward you earned for your hard work. I wouldn’t dream of stopping, not when you make the most adorable little noises and facial expressions for me.”

Grimmjow can only offer a choked and stuttered noise in answer, his eyes falling shut as Aizen gives a few experimental thrusts, sliding out and back in— And then a soft noise from across the room catches Grimmjow’s attention and he turns to look, seeing Ulquiorra on the edge of the chair, watching him with wide and attentive eyes, hands trembling.

“Come here, Ulquiorra.” Aizen doesn’t even have to look to know and Ulquiorra obeys instantly, crawling onto the bed with them. “Let Grimmjow use your lap as a pillow.”

As soon as Ulquiorra slides under him, situating Grimmjow’s head on his thighs, Aizen leans over the length of his body and kisses Ulquiorra. It makes Grimmjow  _ throb _ , the sight of their lips meeting so soft and warm and God, next time, he wants Ulquiorra involved. He wants to watch Aizen’s hands on Ulquiorra’s body, wants to watch Aizen pluck Ulquiorra apart so easily like it takes no effort to do so. For now, though, this will do.

“Very good.” Aizen catches Ulquiorra’s lip between his teeth and tugs it, and Ulquiorra chokes. “Support him while I fuck him. He’s going to need it.”

As it turns out, Aizen’s observation that he didn’t need to worry about his own orgasm interrupting them, that he could just keep fucking Grimmjow for as long as he wanted, was just as much of an observation as it was a warning and a threat.

Grimmjow can’t touch himself. His arms bound behind his back still, he has no way to soothe the steady ache in his cock, the desperate need to touch himself with Aizen fucking him so leisurely, so calmly. His rhythm is damn near perfect, a slow and easy fuck that fills the air with wet noises because he’d used plenty of lube to make sure Grimmjow wouldn’t be hurt. He’s just a little embarrassed to listen to those noises, the obscenity of it all combined with Ulquiorra’s own stuttered and strained breathing above him as he watches them.

And Grimmjow is quiet at first, the occasional little whimper or sigh, the sudden exhales when Aizen’s hips become just a little more forceful. He warms up to it slowly, breathing through it, until it feels like his body was just  _ shaped _ to fit around Aizen like this. And then he realizes that Aizen’s not touching him, and he remembers those words, and fuck,  _ fuck fuck fuck— _

“You’re so lovely,” Aizen croons and Grimmjow swallows hard at the praise, flushed and trembling. “Both of you are. This is such a pretty sight while I’m fucking you. How do you feel, sub? Do you feel full? Do you need me to speed up for you?”

“T-touch me, please, Sir.” What if he doesn’t? What is Aizen gonna do, fuck him until—

_ He would. _

“Has he ever come only from prostate stimulation before, Ulquiorra?” Aizen asks, like the very phrase is not inherently sexual, like this is just normal polite conversation over coffee. Like he’s not gripping the backs of Grimmjow’s thighs to keep his legs up. His rhythm doesn’t even slip like this. “It can be a difficult task, I know, but I assume you’ve probably tried at least once.”

“We have, but he hasn’t,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow whines pitifully.  _ Traitor. _

“Ah, well, I did say I wanted to expand your horizons, didn’t I?” Aizen’s hips shift subtly and Grimmjow  _ howls _ when the entire length of his cock drags over Grimmjow’s prostate in a steady slide that makes his eyes roll back in his head. “I think you’re worked up enough for it to work.”

Grimmjow doesn’t argue with him, he can’t and he doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to lose the delicious heat building in his gut with every press of Aizen’s cock inside of him, every slow thrust that drags over his prostate at a torturous rate. It’s so good and so hot and it makes him hug his knees tighter to his chest, focused on that feeling, that heat that builds up so slow but intense in his gut, coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like he’s going to explode from it. If either of them touched his cock right now, he’d fall apart in seconds, but Aizen doesn’t and Ulquiorra knows better than to try it.

Aizen keeps fucking him and Grimmjow stares up at him, at his handsome face and his softly parted lips and he could lose himself in those deep brown eyes.

“You’re lovely, sub.” Aizen pets down the side of his face and Grimmjow tilts his head, drags his tongue over Aizen’s palm. “Come for me, now.”

Those simple words snap the tightness in his body and send it rushing through him.

Grimmjow yowls with it, arching and bucking against Aizen’s hips, off of Ulquiorra’s lap as his orgasm slams into him, sudden and intense and robbing him of all thought, all reason. His body trembles and jerks and his muscles flex and tighten and he wails, straining, every buck of his hips reminding him that Aizen is still inside of him, still above him, bearing down on him.

When he finally quiets, Aizen slides out of him, then leans down to kiss him. “Well done, Grimmjow.”

Before he can protest the ropes on his arms— they were nice but now feel too much, too difficult, too restraining— Aizen sits him up and unties them in quick little tugs, freeing his arms. His hands are there, massaging the feeling back into Grimmjow’s forearms, up his shoulders and into his neck until he feels almost boneless with it. Ulquiorra's hands slide across his back, and he thinks being caught between them is  _ better _ than anything has ever been.

“Hold him for me, Ulquiorra.” Aizen retrieves his bag once more, juggling a pair of metal cups with screw top lids and a familiar box that raises a curious noise from Grimmjow’s lips. “You both liked them so much last time, it seemed like I should bring more with me.”

The truffles from that night. It makes Grimmjow ridiculously happy, makes him warm again.

Aizen also has wet wipes with him and carefully wipes Grimmjow down, murmuring praise in his ear while he cleans Grimmjow’s come off of him and wipes away the excess lubricant, doing the same for Ulquiorra. Then he unscrews the cups and hands them over, and it’s juice, cool and refreshing on Grimmjow’s tongue and soothing his throat.

“You both did an excellent job. I’m very proud of the two of you.” Aizen feeds Grimmjow a truffle without hesitation and Grimmjow moans around the exquisite taste, the chocolate melting on his tongue, the orange cream inside. “Ulquiorra, I was very pleased with your trust in me. It must have taken a lot. And Grimmjow, you handled everything beautifully. With that in mind, if you two would like to do this again, I believe impact play is not out of the question.”

Grimmjow makes a noise at him. “ _ If? _ We are so fucking doing that again.”

“Brave little sub.” Aizen kisses him and Grimmjow purrs against his lips. “I would like to, if I’m being honest. You were very receptive, and it’s clear to me now that Ulquiorra would like very much to participate in the next scene. You wanted to this time, didn’t you?”

Ulquiorra nods, letting his head fall against Grimmjow’s. “I did. I saw the two of you together and wanted to be involved. I didn’t know how. I don’t think I know, still. But we can figure that out, can’t we?”

“Of course.” Aizen kisses him, too, and Grimmjow sighs at the sight. “We have plenty of time to figure out all of the finer details. I’d love to, in fact.”

Grimmjow pulls Aizen down on top of them, nuzzling along the side of his neck. “Good,” he says. “Besides, you promised I’d get to pay for dinner next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 7 posted on day 7 of nanowrimo turned out to be 7k which is like the holy trinity. also 7 is my favorite number so i'm pretty pleased about that development, all things considered.
> 
> here is the big scene between aizen, grimmjow, and ulquiorra! i don't have much to say in the way of things at this moment only that there's going to be more.


	8. revelations big and small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** none

When Aizen walks into work on Friday morning, he finds himself swamped in an effort to dig Nozarashi out of yet another hole dug through the vocal efforts of Zaraki Kenpachi, who can never seem to keep his mouth shut when it counts. Byakuya is in his office within ten minutes, already harried, a stack of emails in hand so they can sit down and sort this out together. If anyone at the company minds that the two of them are married, they say nothing about it and Aizen thinks that their owner would rather have them work together and get along perfectly than risk having anyone else take their positions and lose the chemistry between them.

Byakuya is not the first manager Nozarashi has had, after all; he’s the third, the previous two chased off by the rowdy group and all of their mishandling of the press. No one wanted to touch them despite their rampant success until Byakuya joined the company, determined he could handle them without suffering the same fate as his predecessors. Six years going strong and he only wants to kill Zaraki one day out of seven on average when he used to want to do it four or five. Aizen doesn’t envy him; he knows how impossible it is to deal with the man.

As a person, Aizen adores Zaraki. He never hesitates to say what he thinks without being unnecessarily offensive, but he’s not afraid to be abrasive and is unafraid of anyone and what they think of him. Physically, he can back it up with over six and a half feet of muscles, scars and fierceness that tend to keep most at arm’s length in an effort to avoid him as much as possible. As a professional, Aizen has suffered more migraines trying to clean up the man’s messes than he can count at this point and he thinks they might as well give up.

For as much as they struggle to keep up with the various catastrophes caused by their longest lasting band, Aizen knows that they always profit hugely every time Nozarashi releases an album or announces a tour, that their merch sells out at a frightening rate so that they’ve had to increase bulk orders almost every single time and they  _ still _ struggle to keep up. Unohana Retsu’s retirement had sparked a panic through the entire company, wondering if the band would continue without her or if Zaraki’s longtime promise that he would disband the whole group if one member stepped out would hold true or not.

The introduction of Ayasegawa Yumichika saved the band, restored their profit margin, and then threw them in a whole new level of hell because Yumichika’s pretty boy features and flamboyant personality drew in a whole new host of female fans they were not prepared for. Everything with this band is a struggle and a fight, made all the more grating by the fact the band members themselves  _ refuse _ to cooperate which is just proof Zaraki has rubbed off on them too much. And today’s disaster is hardly  _ new _ but it’s still grating just the same.

“Why does Zaraki  _ always _ have to come out and say the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment?” Byakuya groans from across Aizen’s desk, juggling two different phone calls as interview requests and curious reporters have been hounding him all day. “ _ I would rail Coyote Starrk over one of our amps any day of the week.  _ Who just fucking offers that information freely? No one was talking to him. They asked Yumichika what he thought of the movie because he’s the film buff in the group. I should just cut Zaraki’s tongue out. He doesn’t sing anyway.”

Aizen chuckles as he massages his temples, staring down the growing pile of emails on his account, struggling to keep up with the massive amount of them pouring in. “The fact they’re trying to pass Starrk off as some soft-spoken romantic type doesn’t make this better.”

“It makes it worse. How could he  _ do _ this to me? I’ve got three people asking me if Zaraki’s bisexual because of that comment since everyone assumed he and Unohana…” Byakuya rolls his eyes and Aizen snorts. He remembers the fan comments all too well.

Most of their bands kept their private lives divided from their careers for the sake of passing off images to the fans, selling them an ideal rather than their true selves. They gave the fans what they wanted and everyone was happy; Nozarashi’s fans grew to believe Zaraki and Unohana were involved because there were more than enough Instagram photos of the two of them alongside Zaraki’s adorable daughter, Yachiru. The two had only ever been friends.

If Zaraki likes men, well, Aizen can’t even say he saw it coming. Zaraki didn’t like  _ anyone _ and seemed to view all people as equally contemptible unless it was his daughter or his band mates, something he more or less told Byakuya to his face on at least three different occasions.

“Oh, good news,” Aizen says, sitting up when his email refreshes once more. “Starrk’s agency is now getting in contact with me to ask what the hell is going on. I am  _ loving _ this.”

“He could have said this about any other actor in the industry and it would be fine but he  _ had _ to pick the straightest actor during awards season.” Byakuya pinches the bridge of his nose, then taps a button on his phone, his voice suddenly sugary sweet and smooth. “Sorry for the wait, but as you can imagine, the office is very busy at this moment. Now, where were we?”

While Byakuya handles phone calls, Aizen sends out email after email and has to double check addresses more than once to make sure he doesn’t fuck up and send something to the wrong place. Nozarashi lucks out in having the two of them covering their mistakes, and Aizen doesn’t even really  _ see _ this as a mistake so much as an unfortunate circumstance. He doesn’t care how Zaraki feels one way or another, not in the grand scheme of things, but he knows better than anyone what kind of standards are placed on musicians, on  _ any _ famous people for that matter.

And while Nozarashi’s many fans have been well-known to whisper amongst themselves about the members being in relationships with one another— Yumichika is a favorite for that— the reality is treated very differently. The black and white nature of it all is frustrating and just another reminder that only places like Las Noches every truly welcome them for who they are.

Before he and Byakuya can debate the logistics of skipping lunch to finish handling this as best they can, Aizen’s secretary pages him.  _ “Aizen-san?” _ Hinamori Momo sounds uncertain and Aizen takes a deep breath, schooling his expression and squaring his shoulders. The last thing he wants to do is take out his annoyance on his employee.

“Yes, Hinamori-kun?” he asks, releasing the button and waiting for her reply.

_ “There’s a tall red-haired man with tattoos standing in front of me saying he’s brought you and Kuchiki-san lunch.” _ Bless Hinamori, but she sounds utterly horrified right now.

Byakuya smiles ruefully from the other side of Aizen’s desk. “That’s my stupid boyfriend.”

“You can escort him in, Hinamori-kun.” Aizen should hardly be surprised that Renji has taken it on himself to just show up at their place of work now that the three of them are… Whatever they are, he’s not going to question it. Not right now, at least.

Hinamori lets Renji inside and he shakes his head at the both of them, waiting for her to close the door before he sets the bags of food he’s brought with him on the one empty corner of Aizen’s desk. He takes his time greeting them both, wrapping his arms around Byakuya’s shoulders from behind, leaning down to kiss behind his ear and whisper something that makes a small smile cross Byakuya’s weary face. From his position peering over the top of his laptop, Aizen takes a moment to admire the two of them together, the stark contrast between them.

Byakuya is beautiful by any standards, his sleek black hair twisted back out of his face today, glasses sliding down his nose and even though there’s clear exhaustion written on his features, his grey eyes are lit up in Renji’s presence. The neat button-down clashes hard with Renji’s shirt, a tattered band t-shirt that Aizen recognizes as belonging to another group in their care. The sleeves are just entirely gone, showing off lots of tanned tattooed skin, and Renji’s red hair is in its usual ponytail but loosened so it's a tangled riot around his face.

Renji catches him watching them and flashes Aizen a lopsided grin and a lazy peace sign. “Sorry to drop in unexpectedly, but neither of you texted me back to tell me no,” he says.

Aizen checks his phone, rolling his eyes at the very simple  _ I’m bringing you both food unless you tell me no. _ “I don’t think you can just do this, but I’m also not capable of stopping you."

“You’re both twenty minutes past when you usually break for lunch so I can just tell you were going to skip, and that’s not good for you.” Renji wags his finger at both of them and Aizen snorts when Byakuya’s eyes narrow slightly, lips pressing into a slender line. “What’s all this I’m hearing on the radio about Zaraki saying he’s gonna fuck Starrk onstage? Is that even allowed?”

Byakuya’s face blanches in horror. “You’re kidding me. Who said that?”

While he tries to frantically dig through the Internet to find the source, Aizen clears off his desk, moving his stack of paperwork to the windowsill for lack of space so he and Renji can set the food out for them to eat. Renji catches him around the waist the moment he stands up, turning Aizen around to kiss him hello properly. He tastes like coffee with entirely too much sugar.

“Sorry to drop in like this for real,” he says, but Aizen scoffs at him, a little flushed. It’s hard to be angry with Renji when he continues to be thoughtful. “I heard it on the radio while we were at practice and when we breaked for lunch, I figured it’d be best to bring you both food ‘cause this seemed like exactly the disaster you’d have to spend all day cleaning up.”

Aizen has to commend him on just how smart and correct of an observation that is. “You’re getting much better at keeping up with band gossip,” he muses, kissing the corner of Renji’s mouth, and he thinks it’s a little selfish that he should get  _ both _ of them like this.

But when he glances at Byakuya, he finds his husband has swept his glasses off of his face and is staring at them, only arching one dark brow when Renji takes a step back. “Oh, don’t mind me. I was just enjoying the free show that came with lunch.”

“We  _ could _ make it a show,” Renji muses, and Aizen swats his shoulder and sits back down.

“You bought  _ sushi. _ ” Byakuya frowns at Renji. “Can you afford this? Was this all right?”

Renji drags the other chair in Aizen’s office over to the desk, rolling his eyes so hard it looks like they might risk getting stuck like that. “Relax, I’m celebrating. We got a whole series of gigs lined up and between that and my actual job, I’m not going to be hurting for money.”

“Are you still looking to intern at Las Noches eventually?” Aizen asks him.

“I mean, yeah, probably. Not that working at Kurosaki’s is bad, but Isshin’s scatterbrained on a good day and I like the scene at Las Noches a lot better.” Renji winks at them both, then picks up the small plate of ahi sashimi that he’ll probably keep all to himself. “Realistically, yeah, I like the club itself more. The music and the color scheme and all that shit, and Apacci seems like she’d be fun as hell to tend bar with. But I’m not in any great hurry.”

Byakuya taps his lips thoughtfully with his chopsticks. “Isshin would have a hard time replacing you, didn’t you say the last bartender quit after just a few weeks?”

“Yeah. Weekends can be crazy and I guess it just freaked the guy out, so he bailed. I like it, though, the adrenaline. Never have nothing to do.” Renji shrugs, and Aizen nods along.

Wryly, he has to admit to himself that the day has passed quickly because he and Byakuya have been so busy, that it feels like they’d only gotten here an hour ago when it’s been over four hours so far. “Sure you don’t want to come work here? It’s just such an enjoyable experience.”

“One of these days, Zabimaru is going to be on your label and you’re gonna fucking love us because we’re never going to get into trouble.” Renji tips his head back, like he’s rethinking that almost instantly. “I mean, okay, Nelliel’s gonna cause eight hundred scandals when she steals all the fangirls for herself. If Zaraki popping off about one moderately attractive dude is enough to cause this much of a shit storm, then I guess we better be careful.”

“It’s not even that it’s that.” Byakuya stabs his rainbow roll, huffing a sigh. “It’s just a bad time to have said anything. I don’t think the fans  _ really _ care because Zaraki has said all sorts of weird shit over the years, but Starrk’s, like, everyone’s  _ darling _ right now and I think quite a few people got offended at the idea of Zaraki saying something so crass about him.”

“Everyone else who’s mad is just homophobic,” Aizen adds thoughtfully.

Byakuya wrinkles his nose. “That, too. It feels wrong to even have to  _ care _ that he said this at all, of all things, like, it shouldn’t matter but it  _ does. _ Sorry, Ren, you didn’t come here to listen to us complain about work. When are these gigs you’ve got lined up so we can come?”

Renji rattles off the dates and locations and Aizen inputs them into the calendar he and Byakuya share, moving a few things around as necessary because he  _ isn’t _ going to miss any of them. He hovers over a certain date, chewing on his lip long enough that he can  _ feel _ them looking at him, silently wondering what’s going on. He hadn’t run this past Byakuya, it was a soft date at best and not really one hundred percent confirmed, but…

“I have a dinner date scheduled with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra just before the third show,” Aizen says, and Renji’s eyebrows shoot up so high it looks like they’re on a trek to join his hairline officially. “I suppose I can make sure it’s wrapped up in time to come see you, though.”

“You can always bring them if you really want to,” Renji says with a sly smile.

Byakuya quickly snatches up a tempura roll and shoves it into Renji’s mouth, ignoring the way Renji chokes on it before he manages to chew it. “What’s going on with those two?”

“The scene went better than I could have imagined and then Grimmjow told me at the end that he wanted to see me again because I promised him he could pay if we ended up going to dinner again.” God help him, it had been a careless remark on his part because Aizen never intended on it happening again. If they continued seeing each other, it was supposed to be about sex.

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Renji muses. “I remember these two dudes being hot as hell so I don’t see why you’d complain about having to see them.”

_ When you put it like that, Renji, I do sound like an asshole. _ “It’s not a complaint. I just… I just  _ said _ it, I never thought either of them would take me up on it.”

“You’re handsome, charming, funny, a delight to be around, a perfect husband, and an incredible Dominant.” Byakuya rattles off these traits while seeming to ignore that each word makes Aizen’s face flush that hotter, his eyes dropping down to the food in front of them as he fights not to squirm in his seat. He should be used to it but listening to his husband so easily compliment him always flusters him just a little. “Why wouldn’t they want to see you again? Or is this just a matter of you thought they were in it for the sex, and now maybe not?”

“That’s going a little far. I don’t think it’s necessarily that.” But he also doesn’t know what it  _ is, _ if they just want to strike up a casual friendship or something else.

Renji hums thoughtfully, stealing an unagi roll that Aizen reaches for without hesitation, grinning at him as he chews— And then he almost chokes again and Aizen smirks at him, taking an unagi roll for himself. “Are you uncomfortable going on, like, a date I guess, with them?”

“I don’t know what to feel about it, admittedly.” It’s hard to get a handle on it, truth be told. “I liked spending time with them. I enjoyed it immensely. This is just new for me.”

“Then we should turn this into a group date. Call them and ask them if they’d like to come to Renji’s gig with the addition that we’ll all get dinner together. If money is an issue, then I can pay for Renji and myself since Grimmjow planned on paying for the three of you.” Byakuya says all of this like it’s so easy, and it probably should be if Aizen didn’t overthink and complicate everything in the process. “See if you can get a hold of one of them now, actually. While we’re all together and we can bat ideas back and forth.”

Grimmjow has a day job and is most likely at work today so Aizen tries for Ulquiorra and sets the phone on speaker so everyone can hear him. He answers on the second ring.  _ “Sorry, I had to save my project. How can I help you, Sosuke?” _

“Sosuke,” Renji echoes with a surprised look on his face.

_ “Who’s that?”  _ Ulquiorra demands, his voice losing some of its monotone softness in favor for a sharper tone that Aizen recognizes all too well.

“Sorry, Ulquiorra, Renji forgot we were on speaker as soon as I made the call.” Aizen fixes Renji with a look and Renji pouts at him, slouching down in his seat. “I wanted to talk to you about dinner, actually. Renji has a gig the same night as you two wanted to go out.”

Ulquiorra is quiet for a moment before he clears his throat.  _ “Are you calling to cancel, then?” _

“No, I was calling to ask if you wanted to make it a group da— A group dinner.” Aizen catches himself at the last moment, not sure how Ulquiorra would feel about that label just yet. Maybe he’s overthinking things, it wouldn’t be the first time. “The two of you can meet Byakuya and Renji formally and then I can take you to Renji’s show with us.”

_ “Like, a music show?” _ Ulquiorra asks, and his voice sounds different now. Considering.

“Yeah, uh.” Renji shifts forward a little, plucking a spider roll up as he speaks. “I’m in a band with some friends and we’ve got a show that night, and I was giving Sosuke and Bya the dates and it just happened to coincide with your dinner da— Thing. So if you wanna come to my thing, you can, like, it’d be cool. You two are like… Hot.”

“Dear God,” Byakuya whispers, covering his eyes with one hand.

It takes Aizen a moment to process it when he realizes Ulquiorra is  _ laughing _ on the other end of the phone, but it’s a much better reaction than he was expecting.  _ “I see. We can most likely accommodate two more people fine. The restaurant Grimmjow wants to take you to isn’t as formal as your own. You don’t need a reservation to my knowledge.” _

“I don’t presume to know your financial situation, but if money is an issue, I can pay for Renji and myself,” Byakuya offers softly.

_ “It’s not a concern. We make enough money to cover that.”  _ There’s shuffling on the other end of the line and Aizen imagines Ulquiorra brushing through his work space, searching for something with the phone pressed to his ear. Maybe balanced on his shoulder so he can use both hands.  _ “Where’s the show at? So I can check the distance isn’t too far.” _

Renji tells him and there’s quiet on the other end of the line for a few minutes during which Byakuya sends Aizen a look across the desk. There’s a slight tease to his smile and Aizen chooses not to dignify that with any kind of response at all.

_ “They’re closer than I would have thought.” _ Ulquiorra sounds pleased with that.  _ “I’ll let Grimmjow know when he comes home, I doubt he’s going to mind at all. And he’ll like getting to go see live music, he used to be in a band in high school. The date and time are fine, though?” _

“Absolutely,” Aizen reassures him. “Thank you for being understanding, Ulquiorra. I promise we’re going to make the change of plans well worth it for the two of you.”

_ “I’m sure you will.” _ Quiet, and then,  _ “If you don’t mind, though, take the phone off speaker for a moment. I want to speak to you in private about something.” _

Aizen switches the phone and takes it across the room to the windows overlooking the parking lot while Renji and Byakuya continue to eat, trusting neither of them is going to attempt to listen in on him. “Apologies if that seemed rather sudden. It’s been an interesting day.”

_ “I wanted to ask how you are. I had the radio on earlier for background noise and I’m aware that Zaraki Kenpachi works for your agency.” _ Ulquiorra sounds concerned and maybe Aizen feels a little warm due to that, the gentleness in his tone.  _ “I hope work is going well for you.” _

“It’s going as well as it can,” Aizen reassures him. “How have you and Grimmjow been?”

Ulquiorra takes his time answering, which concerns Aizen, and he makes a mental note to check his schedule to see if he can just so happen to drop in on them, make an excuse about being in the neighborhood.  _ “Fine, I believe. It was… Overwhelming, the aftermath. I think Grimmjow is fine, though. I’m okay. I keep reflecting on what occurred and thinking I wasn’t so honest about what I wanted from the scene. I would like to participate next time.” _

“I’ll make sure you can, then. It’s about everyone’s needs and desires being met, after all, and I want to ensure that both of you are happy with what happens,” Aizen murmurs. After taking care of them post-scene, he’s pretty sure he’d move mountains to make things work with them.

_ “I thought you’d say something like that. Also…” _ Ulquiorra is quiet again and Aizen knows he must be working very hard to speak, remembers how hard it was to get him to open up at all. He must be taking serious steps, understanding now just how important communication is in all of this.  _ “If you want to cancel dinner so you can spend time with your husband and his partner, neither of us would be upset about that. We can always reschedule.” _

The words take Aizen’s breath away and he closes his eyes, counting back from five to give himself time to calm down. There is no need to panic about this, nothing has happened yet. “No, Ulquiorra. I definitely want to spend time with the two of you.”

_ “Are you sure? I don’t want to make it seem like we’re infringing on your time with them. It’s not… Necessarily the same dynamic.”  _ Ulquiorra clears his throat, and the shuffling sound comes once more like he’s trying to distract himself from what he’s saying.

“It would make me very happy to get to introduce you to Byakuya and Renji officially as they both asked after you two before and after the scene.” Aizen can hear the moment when Ulquiorra stops moving, can hear his breath catch across the line. “I want to spend time with you, and more to the point, I think Byakuya and Renji do as well.”

More silence, and he almost thinks the call might have dropped when Ulquiorra finally exhales laughter.  _ “I’m just so concerned we’ll be stepping on the toes of your personal life here. This is just… It’s sex between us, right? Dinner is just to hang out, casually, like friends.” _

“Dinner is whatever you want it to be,” Aizen reminds him, having told him and Grimmjow this in their group text message at least twice since last night.

_ “Then it can be a date?” _ Ulquiorra sounds unsure of himself and Aizen wonders, distantly, what the fuck must have happened in Ulquiorra’s life for him to sound like this, to be so unsure of himself when he should only be reassured by the fact Aizen  _ wants _ to see him, wants both him and Grimmjow involved with the people he loves most— Oh.  _ “I know Grimmjow has been calling it one pretty casually but I just… I know you’re married. It’s an open marriage, but still.” _

Aizen makes a note to kiss him very hard the next time he sees him. “If you want it to be a date, then it’s a date. I’m open to that. I enjoy talking to you two and spending time with you.”

_ “Then I want it to be a date.” _ More laughter, but this sounds different than Ulquiorra’s normal laughter, a little lighter and easier like something has been lifted off of his chest.  _ “That makes me ridiculously happy and I don’t even know why. But thank you.” _

“The pleasure is all mine, truly. I look forward to seeing you two again. Perhaps…” Aizen has to check his calendar, damn it, he’s probably going to be heavily booked after this mess but he still says it, “perhaps I can free up some time to come spend time with you two before we all go out together. Just around your apartment, if you’d like that.”

Ulquiorra’s breath hitches again.  _ “I think I would like that very much. I know Grimmjow would.” _

“Then it’s a date.” Aizen smiles when he hears Ulquiorra laugh again and what he wouldn’t give to see his face when he laughs like this. “I have to get back to lunch now before we head back into the workday, but I’ll be thinking about your beautiful laugh to get me through the rest of my workday. So thank you for today, Ulquiorra. Enjoy your evening.”

_ “You really are a terrible man,”  _ Ulquiorra muses.  _ “Goodbye, Sosuke.” _

As soon as he comes back to his desk, Renji pounces. “ _ Sosuke? _ I was literally terrified to call you by name for the first like four months I was dating Byakuya. This is some bullshit.”

“It’s not my fault you had anxiety issues that Ulquiorra doesn’t quite possess.” Which isn’t really accurate for the situation but it’s worth saying it just to watch Renji’s face turn pink beneath the tattoos. “Please be nice to them. He’s actually very anxious in his own way.”

Byakuya’s expression softens and he stretches a hand across the desk, giving Aizen’s hand a small squeeze, fingers trailing over his skin, a reassuring softness. “We’ll take care of them  _ and _ you. I’m excited to see these boys who have my Sosuke interested in them.”

“Boyfriends?” Renji asks, a hopeful expression on his face. “Please tell me more boyfriends.”

“I’m  _ not _ saying that,” Aizen says, waving his chopsticks before he goes back to eating. “We’ll see what happens if this goes well. I don’t want to risk alienating them. I don’t think Ulquiorra ever opened himself to the consideration of sharing before now, but I suppose seeing me with Grimmjow and realizing I wasn’t going to  _ steal _ him might have softened him somewhat.”

“And you probably kissed him,” Renji says around a mouthful of rice.

Aizen narrows his eyes at him; Renji knows him too well at this point. “What makes you say that, and what would that have to do with absolutely anything?”

“You always kiss when you’re really wrapped up in it. I think Renji stopped breathing for a full two minutes after the first time you kissed him in-scene. I know Kira did.” Byakuya’s smile is secret and  _ awful _ because he definitely knows too much, has seen almost all of the ins and outs of how Aizen treats the submissives who come to him. “And your kisses can be quite enlightening, all things considered. You tend to kiss with everything you have in you.”

“I’m sure it took a little more than a kiss to convince him,” Aizen argues.

Renji  _ hmms _ loudly, leaning back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, all flair and drama. “So you kissed him, was he tense when you got there? Oh, you totally relaxed him if he was. I bet you  _ held _ him too, I bet he felt so special all wrapped up in your arms.”

“You two are the worst. I don’t know why I married one of you and…” Aizen stops himself, remembering the errant thought he’d had when talking to Ulquiorra.  _ The people I love most. _ “Renji, I don’t want to speak errantly of what is between the two of us.”

“You can all it whatever you want to. What matters to me is that you—” Renji points at Aizen with his chopsticks, “like having me in your life. That’s what I care the most about.”

Aizen nods thoughtfully, then says, “When I spoke to Ulquiorra, I thought of you and Byakuya in terms of being the two people I loved the most.”

Renji drops his chopsticks immediately. “Are you telling me you’re in love with me?”

“Yes.” Aizen watches him carefully, not sure he should have said anything. “Is that—”

For someone as large as he is, Renji moves with surprising speed if with an entire lack of grace. He’s maybe a little too ingrained as their submissive because he kneels in front of Aizen’s chair, leaning to take Aizen’s face in his hands, pulling him down for a kiss. It startles a little noise out of Aizen’s throat but he leans into it happily, fingers curling around Renji’s wrists until he says  _ fuck it _ and slides down onto the floor with him. Renji makes a thankful noise against his lips and pulls Aizen flush against his chest, against all that muscle under thin cotton.

“That’s the best damned thing I’ve ever heard,” Renji tells him between hungry kisses, hands gripping the back of Aizen’s suit jacket like he thinks Aizen is going to move away from him.  _ As if. _ “You have no idea how happy I am that things ended up exactly like this.”

Byakuya makes a noise of agreement. “I would have been happy no matter how things ended up as long as I have the two of you in my life, but I’m glad to know the men I love also love each other. It makes things a hell of a lot less complicated unlike  _ some PR disasters. _ ”

“I love you, Sosuke.” Renji takes Aizen’s face in his hands and kisses him again, a loud smacking one that makes Aizen burn all over. “For real. Holy shit, I finally got to say it.”

Aizen laughs and pecks Renji on the nose, enjoying the way he scrunches his face up sweetly in reaction. “I’m glad to make you happy. Thank you for taking care of the two of us today. And I hope that everyone gets along at dinner. I want things to go well for all of us.”

“Things are gonna go well ‘cause I say they are,” Renji says. “And  _ maybe _ I wanna kiss Grimmjow because he’s super fucking cute. So guaranteed it’ll be perfect.”

_ I sincerely hope you’re right about this, Renji. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cute soft fluff between the ot3! i can't actually believe how much i love these three together but wow did i get hit with major aizen feels right before november started and now here we are.
> 
> anyway this was so much fun to write and i hope everyone enjoys it!


	9. take the bait in the trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
>  **sexual content:** hand jobs and heavy petting

“You’re being neurotic.” Grimmjow steals the dish towel out of his hands and hangs it on the door of the oven, smacking Ulquiorra’s hands away when he tries to take it back. “No! Fuck this, Quiorra, the dude ate my ass and jerked your dick. You think he cares about how the apartment looks? Now go upstairs and put on normal clothes.”

Ulquiorra glances down at his clothing for the evening, frowning as he fumbles with the buttons on the shirt he’d chosen. “What’s wrong with this? This is normal, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s weirdly dressy. He’s coming over to watch some movies and eat dinner with us and like, cuddle on the couch.” Grimmjow hooks a finger in the waistband of Ulquiorra’s pants, giving them a tug. “What are you wearing? Is that a belt? Go put on pajamas immediately.”

“We have to  _ eat, _ ” Ulquiorra reminds him, glancing at the kitchen table quickly.

Grimmjow rolls his eyes and sets his hands down on Ulquiorra’s shoulders probably a little rougher than he intends to. “And we’re eating pizza. You can put on your pajama pants if you want to. You work in them, so it’s not like this is that much of a change for you.”

While that should be comforting and reassuring, Ulquiorra only fidgets with his clothing until Grimmjow gets behind him, hands against his back shoving him through the kitchen doorway and to the stairs almost hard enough to have him tripping over his own feet. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe he really needs to be manhandled like this right now. When Aizen made the comment about coming over to spend some time with them before the big date, Ulquiorra took him seriously and then immediately spent the rest of the day fretting over what that meant.

Of course, Grimmjow is over the moon about it all. As far as he’s concerned, this is as close to having their cake and eating it, too, as they’re going to get with a married man. Ulquiorra was pretty sure all he wanted from this arrangement was sex, a satisfying evening or two spent in the care of a man who would take care of his boyfriend and not leave either of them with lasting emotional scars that threaten to cripple their chances at a future relationship. Instead, maybe he’d walked away from that night wondering what it would be like if Aizen kissed him even more.

“Put on pajama pants and like, a normal shirt,” Grimmjow instructs. “If you come downstairs dressed in something else like this, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder, carry you back up to the bedroom, and you can eat pizza naked. He’s already seen that.”

The threat could hold true. More than once, Grimmjow has proven himself perfectly capable of carrying Ulquiorra over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Sure about what? It’s pizza. He’s probably going to come in sweatpants or something.” Grimmjow rubs a hand over his lower jaw, expression thoughtful. “Maybe he’ll wear silk or satin, wouldn’t that be sexy? I bet he owns something like it, he looks the type.”

Ulquiorra huffs at him. “That’s not what I mean. About… I don’t know what I’m asking here.”

“Am I serious about… Sosuke? Are you asking me that? Are you  _ really _ asking me that?” Grimmjow looks completely thrown by the question as if it never occurred to him to be unsure about anything in his life. Well, that confidence of his.

“I just, I don’t know, I get that their relationship is open and all but I thought. I thought that ours wasn’t.” Ulquiorra sits down on the stairs to keep Grimmjow from getting any ideas about shoving him up them, his hands resting lazily in his lap. “I don’t know. I’m probably overthinking this, like, he clearly told me it could be a date. But his husband is going to be there.”

Grimmjow nods slowly. “Yeah, I know. Byakuya’s a real babe, have you seen him?”

“I feel like you’re purposefully missing the point here to try to distract me.” It wouldn’t be the first time Grimmjow did something in an effort to keep him calm and to get him to relax.

While Ulquiorra can appreciate it to a degree, he also wishes Grimmjow could take this entire situation just a little more seriously given… Everything. Given the fact that the two men who know Aizen better than anyone are going to be at dinner with them, and even if they sounded fine with it over the phone, what if they weren’t? What if they were only humoring Aizen, or doing this because of what happened with Mayuri? What if they all got together and Byakuya and Renji told Aizen that they— that Ulquiorra and Grimmjow— were awful for him? They would know, and then they wouldn’t get to see him again.

Ulquiorra is far from someone who believes in love at first sight, but they had gotten along so well together, the three of them. He likes how Aizen relaxes him, how Aizen takes care of Grimmjow, how he knew that Ulquiorra wanted to touch and dragged him over to the bed to be present because he  _ knew. _ That kind of knowledge is special in Ulquiorra’s eyes.

He’s never been good at reading people, too lost in his own head.

“I wish I could tell you that you’re overreacting in a way that would make you believe me, but I can’t.” Grimmjow kneels down in front of him, his knees bracketing Ulquiorra’s feet on the bottom step. “They are going to love you, and they are definitely going to love me. I mean, have you seen me? Everyone should love me, I’m a hell of a catch.”

Ulquiorra nods because it’s true and because he considers himself luckier than anyone else in the world because he has Grimmjow in his life. It should be selfish to want more than that, to want Grimmjow and Aizen both. “I just hope so. I don’t want to not get to see him again.”

“You’re so fucking cute I can’t stand it. Come here.” Grimmjow leans in, grips him by the chin and kisses him so hot and hard it makes Ulquiorra squirm in his grip. “That’s not gonna happen. You said yourself he sounded so happy on the phone, so just chill for me.”

Ulquiorra nods, jumping when he hears a car pull up outside. “Get the door while I get dressed!”

He bounds up the stairs in record time and slams the bedroom door shut behind him, making a face at the state of the laundry still piled up on the chair in the corner. The grey wingback chair that Ulquiorra picked out of a store full of used furniture, wanting something nice and comfortable for himself when he wants to sit and read or just do his work somewhere more comfortable than his office or the kitchen. The chair where he’d sat and watched Aizen work Grimmjow into a frenzy with just his hands and a few spare tools, the chair he’d arched out of when Aizen brought him to an orgasm so powerful he thought he would pass out.

The memory has his face heating up and he swears, shucking his clothing off and changing into a pair of pajama pants Grimmjow bought him for his birthday one year. The soft grey fabric always feels wonderful against his skin and he loves the black bats decorating it, the aesthetic just fitting him so well. He picks at the drawstring for a moment, then seizes a shirt of Grimmjow’s, pale grey and long-sleeved, and yanks it over his head.

“There you are, babe.” Grimmjow is waiting not far from the bottom of the stairs and Ulquiorra’s face goes white when he realizes Grimmjow is standing there with his arms around Aizen’s waist  _ holding _ the poor man off of his feet. “We were just starting to miss you.”

“You’re manhandling him,” Ulquiorra observes, padding over to the two of them.

Grimmjow hums and cocks his head, then sets Aizen back down on his feet and kisses him with the same heated passion he kissed Ulquiorra with on the stairs. It’s different to watch it in action than it is to feel it, something Ulquiorra had not been aware of before now because how could he be? The sight of it takes his breath away just a little, Grimmjow’s lips working fervently at Aizen’s as his hands catch in the low ponytail Aizen has drawn his hair back in this evening.

The thought reminds Ulquiorra that he needs to cut his hair soon. It’s getting too long, a pain to wrestle out of his eyes when he needs to be focused on work.

“Sorry to hog him!” Grimmjow doesn’t look sorry at all as he steps back, shoving Ulquiorra forward with one hand as he heads for the kitchen. “I’m gonna bring pizza out into the living room and we can just eat on the couch. Save some for me, Quiorra.”

Before Ulquiorra can figure out what he means, because he hasn’t even  _ touched _ the pizza yet, Aizen steps forward and catches Ulquiorra’s jaw in his own, pressing a kiss to his lips. It startles a small noise out of Ulquiorra’s throat and he flushes, his eyelids fluttering as he leans up into the kiss Aizen offers him. It’s so warm and Aizen’s lips fit so perfectly against his own, tongue sweeping across his lower lip until Ulquiorra opens his mouth obediently.

He’s kissed plenty of men in his life but none of them kiss with the passion and confidence and patience Aizen does, as if he’s content to take Ulquiorra apart piece by piece at his own leisure. It makes Ulquirora flush and whimper and whine just a little, fingers curling around Aizen’s wrists as he seeks to draw the moment out and make it last forever. Or at least just a little longer.

“You sounded so happy on the phone when you called me and now you look so hesitant and uncertain.” Aizen frowns down at him, fingers dancing down the side of Ulquiorra’s face. “Did I do something wrong on call that you were afraid to bring up?”

_ Oh, you truly are too perfect of a man. _ “No, I’m always a little like this when it starts. I’m sure it’ll stop eventually but… Thank you for checking up on me. You’re very sweet.”

“I’d be an awful man if I didn’t gauge your comfort level.” Aizen kisses him again, brief but tender, and Ulquiorra sighs into it. “There you are. Relax for me, Ulquiorra.”

The words make him think back to Aizen kneeling at his feet on the front porch, the immense amount of power he felt so see such a dominant man on his knees just to take care of him. “I am relaxed when I’m with you. Would you like to sit down?”

“The couch has room for three!” Grimmjow bounces back into the room, pizza boxes in hand, three beers carefully balanced on the top box. “What movie are we starting with? Oh, I know, we can start with Starrk’s new— Oh no, was that too soon a joke?”

Aizen’s pinched expression slowly smoothes and he sighs, shaking his head. “No, not at all. We finally sorted the mess out. Zaraki refuses to apologize for what he said and I can’t exactly pretend that I blame him for such a thing. So Byakuya convinced Yumichika to say he’d put Zaraki up to saying it, and he’s openly flamboyant so everyone is fine with it.”

“It seems unfair that the dude can’t just be like, hey, this actor is hot.” Grimmjow rolls his eyes, setting their food and drink down on the coffee table.

“I suppose it makes sense based on the fanbase, but it’s still unfair, I agree.” Ulquiorra sits down on his favorite end of the couch, stealing his favorite pillow from one of the chairs to tuck between his back and the couch. Sitting to work for as long as he does each day can cause some aches and pains. “So, are we fine with watching it? It just hit Netflix.”

Aizen hums and sits down in the middle of the couch, and Ulquiorra blinks at this, but he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he might. “Sure. Byakuya is a fan but we usually don’t go see films in the cinema all that often. It’s just a hassle and the price range is intense.”

“Fuck yeah. That’s why we have Netflix.” Grimmjow drops down on the other end of the couch, propping his feet up in Aizen’s lap with a devious little grin.

To Ulquiorra’s surprise, Aizen only props his hands on Grimmjow’s ankles like he’s done this a thousand times before. “Netflix is good, I agree. So Starrk’s new movie it is.”

“ _ Los Lobos _ is supposed to be good but you never know.” Ulquiorra gets the TV on, boots up their favorite streaming service, and pulls the movie out of their saved list. “Our save list is getting ridiculously long again, so we’re going to have to purge it soon.”

“Looks like it.” Grimmjow huffs. “I’m gonna marathon some shows over the weekend, then.”

It should be more difficult to settle into such a companionable quiet while they eat, but it’s not hard at all. Ulquiorra shifts once he finishes his pizza so he can lean against Aizen and he makes a small content noise in the back of his throat when Aizen slips an arm around his shoulders, letting him cuddle up as close as he wants to. It’s something he usually does with Grimmjow, who is so much bigger than him and therefore a perfect human body pillow.

Aizen kisses the top of his head and he shivers all over at the touch.

“This movie is so… People watch this? And think it’s super romantic?” Grimmjow throws his head back, raising his hands toward the ceiling as if he’s consulting with God. “Are you  _ fucking _ serious? He’s got more chemistry with that… That guy… Who’s the competitor?”

“His name is Yylfordt Granz, I do believe. He’s like… European? German, maybe.” Aizen looks thoughtful at that and Ulquiorra chuckles when Grimmjow only groans loudly.

“But like  _ why _ are they getting along so much better than either of them are with the woman? This is so fucking stupid. This is an insult to my intelligence.” Grimmjow’s gaze snaps to the TV when it flashes to a close-up of Starrk’s concerned and haggard face, his character having finally put the pieces together to realize his lover and his best friend were seeing each other behind his back. “Who  _ cares? _ That dude wants to suck your dick. I’m fucking bisexual, I know what it looks like when a dude wants to fuck a woman, okay, and this ain’t it.”

Aizen laughs and the sound is musical almost, sending a warm reverberation down Ulquiorra’s spine that he arches into gratefully. “You have very certain opinions about acting.”

“Do you know how much shit I watch where there’s like no chemistry between the leads but there is between, like, the main dude and his best friend?  _ All of it. _ ” Grimmjow yanks the pillow from beside him, shoving his face into it to muffle what sounds like a frustrated scream.

Ulquiorra can’t help but fan the flames, enjoying Grimmjow’s distress far too much. “It’s too bad that there was all this drama today about another man making sexual comments about Starrk given his work would imply he would rather be in such a state after all.”

“I was talking about that with Nel today! Oh my god.” Grimmjow sighs. “I hate everything.”

Aizen tilts his head, his eyes widening slightly. “Did you say Nel? Short for Nelliel?”

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s a new client of mine, she’s been with me, what, two or three weeks now? She plays guitar in a band so she’s been working on her arm and core muscles with me.” Grimmjow raises his eyebrows at Aizen and Ulquiorra blinks at him, not sure how to take this. Is it such a small world after all that Aizen knows her?

“Nelliel is the guitarist for Renji’s band, Zabimaru,” Aizen clarifies, and Grimmjow’s eyes widen further while Ulquiorra’s mouth falls open just a little.

Grimmjow laughs and throws his head back. “Oh man, that means I’m gonna go get to see her play after she refused to tell me her band name. She’s gonna be so pissed off.”

“She’s going to filet you if you show up,” Ulquiorra confirms, remembering the colorful threats Grimmjow had ticked off his fingers, courtesy of Nelliel wanting her band to remain a secret.

“Renji wants to get Zabimaru signed to our label and their gigs are at least one step in that direction. I think they’d fit, but it’s not my call to make.” Aizen looks thoughtful and Ulquiorra stretches a hand up to play with his ponytail, fingers sifting through his impossibly soft hair. He must use all of that money to take care of it. “This is going to be very interesting indeed.”

Ulquiorra nods in agreement. “I suppose so. Now we can all sit down after the show and rant about how Starrk’s characters are all into men and haven’t figured it out yet.”

“God, I’m so fucking!” Grimmjow rakes a hand down his face and Ulquiorra hides a smile against Aizen’s shoulder. “No, look, like, remember the last one? Whatever the fuck it was called? I can’t remember, he’s in so many these days. But like, literally, that scene at the end was  _ basically _ a love confession?  _ If the world has to end like this, then I’m glad the two of us are here together to see it. _ You don’t just say that shit to your fucking friend!”

Aizen stretches out a hand, traces his fingers over Grimmjow’s jaw until Grimmjow sighs and presses into his touch. “Maybe we’ll all get lucky and he’ll announce a part in a gay film, then. I’m sure that would go over well after how today’s lovely scandal did.”

Grimmjow pouts at him. “It isn’t  _ fair. _ Straight people have enough attractive actors at their disposal and half of our movies are like, sad. We’re  _ owed _ our Coyote Starrk sometime soon.”

Ulquiorra puts the leftover pizza in the refrigerator and picks a different film when the credits finally roll— Grimmjow scowling the entire time, arms crossed over his chest. It’s a comedy, much lighter than the first film and much less likely to send Grimmjow into a rant about characterization and attraction in films. It also makes Aizen laugh more than once and Ulquiorra absolutely fucking  _ preens _ when he’s happy, satisfied because this movie was  _ his _ pick. And when Aizen catches him staring, he only leans in and kisses Ulquiorra so gently, their lips meeting so softly in the middle that it’s a perfect moment.

Until, of course, Grimmjow makes a strangled noise at the two of them. “Shit, now here’s a show I could give my undivided attention to.”

“No baiting, either,” Aizen murmurs, fingers stroking along Ulquiorra’s jaw before he presses a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Shall we give him a proper show, Ulquiorra?”

“Absolutely.” He’s not going to pass up on the chance to kiss Aizen no matter the situation.

What he isn’t expecting is the moment when Aizen pulls him closer toward the center of the couch only to swing one impressive leg over Ulquiorra’s lap, straddling his thighs with the comfort of a person who has done this a thousand times before even though this is the first time. The sight of Aizen sitting on top of him, looking down at him, loose strands of hair framing a face flushed from kissing and eyes warm with affection, fills Ulquiorra with a surprising amount of warmth that is quickly dashed away when Grimmjow makes a loud choked sound.

“That’s… A good visual,” he says, curling a hand beneath his chin, winking when Ulquiorra scowls at him. “Don’t mind me, I’m just a spectator like you were, right?”

The memory sends a hot rush of blood through Ulquiorra’s entire body and he looks up at Aizen kneeling above him, can feel the weight of Aizen’s body perched atop his own. Slowly, he runs his fingers under the bottom of Aizen’s shirt, feeling the firm muscles of his stomach.

“I’ve been leading this entire time.” Aizen tips Ulquiorra’s chin up, his breath warm against Ulquiorra’s mouth. “Show me what your kisses taste like, Ulquiorra.”

The offer hangs in the air between them, Aizen’s soft mouth centimeters away from his own— And Ulquiorra takes it, wrapping a hand around the back of Aizen’s mouth, guiding him down so he can bring their mouths together. He still remembers the first time he kissed Grimmjow because of course he does, such a sentimental memory locked away in his heart where he wants to keep it forever. He remembers Grimmjow gasping and whining against his mouth, unable to keep up with Ulquiorra’s tactics, panting and flushed when it was over.

But that had been fueled by passion and desire, a  _ want _ that possessed Ulquiorra like a wild thing. He shows Aizen something different, slower perhaps, and less abrasive.

Just as all-consuming, just as impossible to keep up.

He moves their mouths together at the rhythm he likes, teeth tugging at Aizen’s lower lip, little nips and brushes that are fleeting and brief. He feels Aizen shift against him and his other arm curls around Aizen’s waist, hand splayed in the small of his back.

He’s impatient, fingers grasping at Ulquiorra’s shoulders and digging in sweetly.

So Ulquiorra grants him what he wants, his tongue flicking against Aizen’s lower lip in one smooth gesture that has Aizen’s mouth opening to his own. He licks inside of it, savoring the taste of Aizen’s mouth, the softness of his lips and the velvety warmth behind them. He teases Aizen’s tongue to life with his own and it’s not a battle but a dance, Ulquiorra concentrated his breaths through his nose so he doesn’t have to stop to come up for air.

More than most other things, Ulquiorra likes kissing. He likes the build, the tension, the heat and the intimacy of it. Aizen’s nose brushes gently against his own and Ulquiorra’s hand flexes on the back of his neck, keeping him where he wants him. Under his thrall, firmly.

They stop kissing under Ulquiorra’s authority and it does things to him to see Aizen’s face flushed and lips swollen and red from his efforts. Because he can, he leans forward and bites down on Aizen’s lower lip, running his teeth over it slowly before letting it go.

“Holy shit.” Grimmjow is pressed up against Ulquiorra’s side in an instant, fingers sneaking up to curl against Ulquiorra’s chest. “My turn. Kiss me like that, Quiorra.”

Ulquiorra huffs at him but frees up a hand to wrap around Grimmjow’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “If you insist, you awful and greedy man. Your turn to put on the show.”

Unlike Aizen, Grimmjow is vocal. He always is when it comes to anything whether it be awful movies or someone rimming him until he cries from the force of it. Kissing is no different in that respect, moans and gasps swallowed after Ulquiorra savors the flavor of them on his tongue, the melting sweetness of Grimmjow’s noises for him. He can feel Grimmjow pressing hard against his hips and tries not to think too much of it, but it’s hard not to.

“Oh, you two are absolutely riveting together,” Aizen murmurs, stroking down Grimmjow’s face with one hand. “And I see we’ve excited our poor darling a little too much.”

If Ulquiorra’s being honest with himself, he might be half-hard, himself. “I suppose we did.”

“Let me handle that.” Aizen leans in, hand disappearing beneath Grimmjow’s sweatpants so fast that Grimmjow sucks in a sharp breath. And at the same moment, he shifts, one thigh sliding between Ulquiorra’s own and rocking against where he’s growing harder steadily. “I can handle both of you at once, actually. Aren’t I such a helpful guest?”

The pressure of Aizen’s thigh against his cock makes Ulquiorra moan softly but it’s nothing compared to Grimmjow, who fucks up into Aizen’s hand with whimpering and choked little crying sounds, keening softly at nearly everything Aizen does. He comes first, of course, but Ulquiorra isn’t that far behind him. He’ll have to change his clothes  _ again. _

“What about you?” Grimmjow asks when he’s calmed down enough to speak again.

“What about me?” Aizen doesn’t dislodge himself from Ulquiorra’s lap but leans over to retrieve the box of Kleenex on the coffee table, wiping his hand free of come.

The question has Ulquiorra flashing back to the fact that Aizen hadn’t had an orgasm during their scene, and neither of them had even so much as offered to do anything. Not that he can think of a way they can when Aizen told them at dinner he only let Byakuya touch him, a perfectly logical boundary to have. But it feels so unfair that he can do so much for them and they can’t repay him in any way, shape, or form.

Grimmjow makes a disquieted noise. “I was too fucked up to think about it in-scene but you didn’t get off from that, did you? I would have noticed if you did.”

“I did not, you are correct.” Aizen’s voice sounds off now and when he smiles, it does not quite reach his eyes. “I am capable of taking care of myself, and I usually prefer it.”

“Because you don’t like it when other people touch you,” Ulquiorra murmurs.

“Exactly. It’s nothing personal, just… It’s necessary for my personal comfort.” Aizen sets the soiled Kleenex on his empty plate. “You don’t have to worry about me in such a way.”

Ulquiorra’s hands move to grip Aizen’s hips and he thumbs the bare skin just under Aizen’s shirt and over the top of his pants. “What about the way you just got me off? I won’t even move. You can just rut against my leg until it gets you off. Does that work for you?”

Aizen is quiet for a moment before he sighs, and there’s something dreamy about the sound of it. “You’re a very thoughtful man, Ulquiorra. When I establish such a boundary with others, they usually accept it and move on from there, and most of them never question it. For one of you to question it and the other to search for a solution, that’s very thoughtful.”

“But will it work for you?” Ulquiorra presses. “If you’d rather I drop this and we move on, I’ll apologize, but it seems unfair that we both got off and you won’t get to.”

“It will work,” Aizen murmurs, and Ulquiorra’s heart shoves itself firmly in his throat. “I… Thank you, Ulquiorra, for caring. If I get too rough, you can slow me down.”

Ulquiorra holds true to his word and keeps his hands to himself while Aizen situates his body, and Grimmjow even backs off to give him suitable room. Those gorgeous and strong thighs straddle one of Ulquiorra’s own and his eyelids grow heavy when Aizen purposefully grinds against him, dragging against the length of his thigh with a little sigh that makes Ulquiorra’s hands twitch with the desire to touch. But he promised not to, so he keeps them to himself.

He can still appreciate the sight, and he does. Aizen’s face grows steadily more flushed and soft little noises slide past his lips, little sighs and gasps for the most part. Breathless little noises that make Ulquiorra wish there was  _ something _ he could do to make Aizen moan properly, because he can tell he  _ would _ with the proper stimuli. Maybe later, if the three of them continue to spend time together and Aizen decides the two of them can be trusted with such a thing.

But for now, this is enough. For now, this is  _ more _ than enough.

“You’re gorgeous,” Ulquiorra tells him, shoving his hands under his own ass to keep them under control, torn between watching Aizen’s face and the delicious grind of his crotch against Ulquiorra’s thigh. “Take everything you want from me, Sosuke. I’m here for your pleasure.”

The expression on Aizen’s face at his words is priceless, lips parted softly around a noise half-trapped in his throat, pressed down tight against Ulquiorra’s thigh, fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough that it hurts but not enough to make him stop.  _ There will be bruises, _ Ulquiorra thinks, and shudders at the thought of this man leaving marks on him.

Ulquiorra takes a risk, tilts his head up and meets Aizen’s dark gaze directly with his own. “Come for me, Sosuke,” he murmurs, so soft it almost seems inaudible.

Aizen hears it. Ulquiorra can see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes a moment before his spine bows, a beautiful arch that takes Ulquiorra’s breath away. Strong thighs tremble and twitch against his own and Aizen presses down hard against him, but it’s the low and breathy moan that leaves his mouth that captures Ulquiorra’s attention, the most riveting sound he’s ever heard. He’s going to have to work hard to hear it more often.

“Shit,” Grimmjow says faintly. “We missed half the movie.”

Aizen laughs and slumps forward, his head coming to rest on Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “No matter,” he murmurs. “I’m sure this show was much more engaging.”

Ulquiorra hums in agreement, running his hands up and down Aizen’s back, pressing his cheek against Aizen’s hair. “Certainly, I was paying much more attention to it.”

“I’m going to rewind,” Grimmjow decides. “And then go change my pants.”

Aizen huffs laughter against Ulquiorra’s shoulder. The evening is not perfect. It far exceeds everything Ulquiorra ever could have hoped it would.

He’s looking forward to this dinner date after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and with this chapter i've managed to beat nanowrimo's word count goal of 50k in only 9 days! the challenge lasts all month for a total of 30 days and i've beaten it early before, but it's never been anything like this.
> 
> thanks so much for the continuous support! my longest nano project to date has been 70k, so let's beat it together!
> 
> the dinner date will be next~


	10. a five-pointed star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** mentions of body dysphoria
> 
> **sexual content:** some heavy petting and suggestion

“You look as handsome as always, my love, but this really is too much for a music show at a bar and I think you know that.” Byakuya’s fingers curl around the tie Aizen has expertly tied around his throat, using it to pull him just a few centimeters closer to him. “I don’t know why you would be concerned if your night over went so well and all you wore were sweatpants. You could probably go naked and they’d prefer it.”

The thought of showing up to a diner naked has Aizen flushing furiously and Byakuya laughs, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that steals the starch from his muscles. Though the initial plan had been that he, Ulquiorra, and Grimmjow were going to have dinner with each other at a place Grimmjow chose for them, the plan had changed to incorporate Byakuya and Renji as well. Aizen is happy for that as much as he is nervous, but he wants the four of them to properly meet one another to see how they get along. It would make his life so much easier if all of the pieces of it came together in any neat way, as selfish as it might be to want that.

“I just want to look nice.” Not  _ too _ nice, of course, because Renji wants them to be relaxed and casual for his show. It’s probably for an eye candy-related reason.

Byakuya leads him by the tie over to the closet, stretching up his graceful hand to pull the cord just above their heads, illuminating the closet space the two of them share. The closet itself is large and they have enough clothing to take up the entirety of the space, another testament to how hard the two of them have worked to earn the life they have today. Byakuya thumbs through shirts, humming softly to himself as he does, and Aizen is almost  _ almost _ jealous of him because Byakuya is beautiful. He turns heads wherever they go no matter how he dresses.

The fact he knows  _ how _ to dress just makes Aizen all the more envious, the way his jeans hang casually at his hips, the way the lavender shirt accentuates the broadness of his shoulders and brings out the violet hints in his grey eyes. He looks so  _ effortless _ but Aizen still overthinks everything, worries that complete strangers will be able to see through any facade of masculinity he erects in order for people to read him the way he desires.

It never feels enough, and he has no idea what to do about that.

“This one.” Byakuya pulls out a wine red V-neck, holding it up to Aizen’s chest before giving a short nod. “It will look good with the black jeans. Get dressed. Renji is on the way.”

Aizen expects Byakuya to leave the room and head downstairs to wait for their ride— Renji offered to drive them since he can’t very well drink and play well enough at the same time— but instead as soon as Aizen unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, Byakuya is there, hands smoothing down his chest. It wrings a small noise from his throat, the casual warmth of Byakuya’s touch as his fingers slip just beneath the waistband of Aizen’s jeans, pulling him closer so that their hips bump together, Byakuya’s shirt brushing his bare skin.

“We don’t have time for this,” Aizen reminds him, tossing his shirt in the general direction of the bed behind him. If they hit the bedspread, the evening will be instantly ruined.

“I’m aware of that.” Byakuya sighs and presses their foreheads together, and Aizen closes his eyes, reveling in the closeness of his husband and the warmth of his touch, the sweet smell of his skin. No matter what fragrances he chooses to wear, the natural faint scent of cherry blossoms seems to accompany him everywhere. “I just wanted to selfishly touch you.”

Aizen bites his lip, warmth spreading from his chest and through his limbs, his fingers tingling with it. “It’s not selfish since we’re married. Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes and no. I’m nervous to meet your submissives for real.” Byakuya kisses him, soft and light enough that Aizen almost purrs at the touch of his lips.

“They’re going to love you. Grimmjow is very excited to meet you.”  _ Ulquiorra is probably an anxiety-riddled mess, but there’s only so much I can do about that.  _ “Look at the way Renji adores you. They’re going to be all over you. They’ll probably leave me for you.”

Byakuya scoffs at him, nipping at Aizen’s lower lip. “Ridiculous. No one in their right mind would ever leave you. Much less that sweet boy who giggled for you on the phone.”

“Ulquiorra. That was him.” And he had been all warmth and tenderness when they spent the evening together, something Aizen has not been able to stop thinking about.

“The one who managed to get you off all on his own, hmm?” Byakuya’s fingers slip just a little lower under his jeans and Aizen hisses softly when the tips of his fingers skim Aizen’s pubic hair. “I’m jealous. A beautiful man already chained to your desires and willing to do anything he can in order to give you pleasure. He sounds like a true angel.”

The compliment has Aizen smiling, his own hands rising to rest on Byakuya’s shoulders, feeling the minute shift of muscle beneath the fabric as Byakuya’s fingers ease beneath one more centimeter. “He is a true prince. You two should get along very well, as a result.”

“Or we’ll argue trying to be the most princely at the table.” Byakuya pouts at the thought and Aizen can’t resist kissing the expression off of his face. “Renji wanted to know if he could spend the night with us, by the way. He made it almost painfully clear that he wants to celebrate the show with sex if we’re interested, and I told him I’d ask you.”

As if Byakuya has to ask. “Of course. It’s always lovely having Renji over.”

“He does so adore us, doesn’t he?” Byakuya chuckles and kisses Aizen once more, his tongue sweeping between Aizen’s parted lips before he finally steps back with the slightest twinge of regret at his mouth. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll stop mauling you now.”

Aizen pulls the shirt over his head, smoothing the fabric over his skin and straightening the collar to lay attractively against his collarbones, the V dipping just below them. It’s a promise of  _ more _ without the sight and he wonders briefly what Grimmjow and Ulquiorra will be wearing, remembering just how handsome they had looked at Hueco Mundo.

Byakuya offers his hand and Aizen takes it, their fingers lacing together as Byakuya leads him downstairs to the living room. They both have their wallets and keys already on them and are, essentially, ready to go. It’s probably why Byakuya chooses to spin Aizen around and pull him up against his chest, arms settling around him possessively as he presses his face against the crook of Aizen’s neck. With time to spare, of course Byakuya gets frisky.

“You look so handsome in this. I should never have suggested it.” Byakuya lays the gentlest of kisses against Aizen’s skin and Aizen hums, his eyes slipping shut. “Everyone is going to see you looking this good and want you, though. And they won’t get to have you.”

The words are needlessly possessive and Aizen revels in them, the slight edge to his husband’s voice that always makes excitement curl tight in his gut. He knows Byakuya is only setting the stage for this evening when Renji brings them home, but the thought of being this excited around his two submissives makes Aizen’s skin feel hot and tight.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Aizen murmurs, brushing silky black hair off of Byakuya’s shoulder, fingers tracing the cord of his shoulder where it connects to his neck. “I think my boys are going to have a hard time picking their jaws up off of the floor.”

The sound of tires on the pavement outside cuts their little moment and before they can even reach the door, someone is knocking on it. Their boy, so thoughtful. Renji is on the other side of the door when Byakuya opens it and grins, stepping in to wrap an arm around each of them, pulling them against the strong plane of his chest. Aizen can feel the firm beat of Renji’s heart against the palm of his hand and sighs in content, his eyes slipping shut and a blissful smile touching his lips when Renji presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You both look hot,” he says, blunt as always. “I told Nel we’re all going out for dinner first so she doesn’t, like, freak out if I’m not there at the exact second she specified.”

“Are the others going to be just as okay with such a thing?” Byakuya asks dryly.

Renji rolls his eyes and groans, his arms tightening around them both just a little. “They better be. I know Hisagi can be a case of arrested fucking development when he wants to be, but I’m not about to let that ruin my night. I get to meet two more hot guys tonight.”

“That you do, so you better be on your best behavior.” Byakuya hooks a finger in the choker around Renji’s neck, the thin strap of leather serving as an impromptu collar when Byakuya pulls it tight against his skin. “If you are bad, you will be punished. These two men are Sosuke’s chosen submissives, and you will behave respectfully toward both of them.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t wanna fuck anything up for anyone.” Renji presses his cheek against Aizen’s and makes puppy eyes at Byakuya, who softens minutely.

“He’ll be good,” Aizen murmurs, petting a hand down the side of Renji’s face and laughing when Renji rubs against his fingers like a cat seeking attention. “Now, let’s go to dinner.”

He and Byakuya ride in the back of the car and ask Renji questions about the show, Byakuya making a note of the setlist as he always does as though Renji does not shove his new music onto their phones as soon as he gets the opportunity. When it comes to Zabimaru, Aizen surprised himself with how much he liked them. Their loud and rowdy style complimented their simple playing rather well, a carefree sort of blend of rock and something more traditional that fit them all too well. It had been Nel’s vision, this style, and the five of them had put in the work to make it come together when they realized just how well it fit them.

The restaurant Grimmjow chose for them is a diner that feels warm and welcoming as soon as they step inside, and Grimmjow spots them, bouncing up from the table he and Ulquiorra are sitting at together. The booth is long and wide enough to accommodate five people, and Aizen wonders just where they plan on sitting him in this configuration.

“I’m glad you found the place okay.” Grimmjow almost bounds up to him, hesitating just a moment like he doesn’t know if it’s proper before he pulls Aizen into his arms. Arms that are on display this evening, his muscles gleaming under the lights. “You look so fucking  _ good. _ ”

“Likewise, Grimmjow.” Aizen leans back enough to peck him on the lips, not minding so much if someone says something to them. Renji is enough of a deterrent to keep others away. “This blue shirt goes well with your eyes. Are you here to escort us to our table?”

Grimmjow beams at him and offers his arm, and Aizen takes it graciously. “I’m a gentleman.”

Ulquiorra rises to greet him as well and Aizen wonders if the two of them had been doing some base reading over how to show respect in public without ever making it clear what they were really up to. Slender white fingers ghost against the side of Aizen’s neck as Ulquiorra leans up to kiss him, evidently just as unafraid as Aizen had been at the prospect of others seeing.

“We missed you.” He smiles softly and Aizen chuckles, their noses brushing together.

“Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, I would like to formally introduce the two of you to my husband, Kuchiki Byakuya, and our boyfriend, Abarai Renji.” The choice of words have both of their eyes widening and Aizen remembers that he hadn’t quite telegraphed that Renji was now his as well as Byakuya’s. “Darling, Renji, these two lovely young men are Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.”

Renji whistles without shame as he sprawls on one side of the booth, giving them both an updown that has Aizen pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “What a view. You paint that shirt on, Grimmjow? Those abs are gorgeous. I’d love to see them up close.”

“Behave.” Byakuya sits beside him, fixing him with a scowl that Renji only smiles at in return. “These are Sosuke’s boys, may I remind you? I did not authorize flirting.”

“You also didn’t ban it,” Renji reminds him, and Byakuya sighs.

“Our boyfriend,” Ulquiorra muses as he sits back down. “I did not realize that change had been made. When Sosuke spoke of you, it was in terms of you being Byakuya’s partner.”

Aizen ends up sitting between Ulquiorra and Grimmjow when he’s all but pushed into the booth, Grimmjow pressed up against his side as he rests his cheek against Aizen’s shoulder. He’s exactly like an overly affectionate cat who has missed its owner and Aizen’s heart is soft at the thought as he lets his arm come to rest around Grimmjow’s shoulders. Perhaps tonight will allow him to figure out just how he has to configure these two into his life properly.

“We’ve had ourselves a couple of love confessions since then,” Renji says as if it’s the most blase thing in the world to discuss. “So now I’m his, too. What about you two? You gunning for being his boyfriends, too, or is this just like a sex thing for you?”

Byakuya rests a hand gently on Renji’s shoulder. “That is a bit blunt, isn’t it?”

“ _ Maybe _ but I want to know what’s up so I just like, know. You can’t tell me you don’t want to know.” Renji gives Byakuya a knowing look and Aizen raises an eyebrow when his husband only ducks his head to hide a blush. “I thought so. So, boyfriends or no?”

Ulquiorra tents his fingers together, looking thoughtful. “I suppose it’s not only up for us to decide. There’s always the matter of Sosuke’s husband to consider.”

“If the tattooed loudmouth was not a clear enough indicator, our marriage is as open as Sosuke has reassured you that it is.” Byakuya gives Renji’s ponytail a light tug and Renji hums, leaning into the touch with far too much enthusiasm. “So it is of no consequence to me if Sosuke should desire to be in a relationship with the two of you. As long as you treat him properly and respect his identity, then you won’t find me showing up at your apartment with a knife in hand.”

The dark promise has Grimmjow chortling. “I love you already. Well, I’ve already kinda made myself real obvious about what I want, and it’s your husband. Quiorra, your thoughts?”

“I enjoy spending time with you, Sosuke.” Ulquiorra drops the pretense of discussing him as if he isn’t even here, turning to look up at Aizen with soft green eyes that seem to captivate him so totally it’s impossible to look away. “I once thought that I would not want anyone else to have Grimmjow as a partner, only me, but you have changed my way of thinking. I want to have you as a part of our lives even if that means opening things up in a way I am not used to.”

The soft words have Aizen’s heart hammering hard against his ribs, threatening to explode through the bone at any moment. “Well, I happen to enjoy your company very much. You and Grimmjow are a breath of fresh air and I’ve enjoyed all the time I spent with you.”

“Wow you just said that right in front of me, huh?” Renji gives him a pitiful puppy expression but knocks their ankles together beneath the table. “Guess I’m not  _ exciting _ to you anymore.”

Byakuya must know Renji is joking but he still pauses to sift his fingers through Renji’s hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “There is a different sensation akin to  _ coming home _ with you.”

Before Renji can stutter out a reply, his face going red beneath the tattoos, the waitress comes to hand out menus and take their drink orders; by the time she returns with their beverages, they have already decided on the food. Grimmjow is a vibrating ball of energy at Aizen’s side, seemingly so content to be near him and yet there is no disguising the interest as his gaze darts across the table, tongue darting out to moisten his lips before he clears his throat and leans forward, stirring his straw around in his drink so the ice clinks softly.

He’s so irresistibly  _ cute _ that Aizen wishes he had video of this moment.

“What’s it like managing a band like Nozarashi?” he asks, and Byakuya’s eyes widen a moment before he falls dramatically against his seat. “What? I’m sorry!”

Byakuya waves a hand away and then leans across the table, his hands coming to cup over Grimmjow’s, and Aizen can see the moment Grimmjow stops, his mouth falling open a little, his eyes soft and glassy at the contact.  _ Oh, darling. _ “Zaraki Kenpachi is an awful,  _ awful _ , horrid man who makes my life a living hell because it is a fun game to him to see if he can make my hair turn grey prematurely. The rest of them? Angels. I could work with them forever.”

“Zaraki is… He’s something,” Aizen confirms when Grimmjow blinks at him, as if asking for his view on this. “He’s a very independent person and that doesn’t necessarily work well in a setting that requires you to have basic cooperation skills with other people.”

Renji snorts and leans across the table, too, and Aizen thinks it must look like they’re having some covert meeting from the outside, everyone gathered around the table. “Listen, I’ve met the dude, and he’s like, amazing? His energy and everything but he gets into so much fucking shit that Bya has to clean up after with Sosuke’s help. It’s like a sitcom.”

“How has Nozarashi lasted for such an extended period of time if Zaraki is renown for getting into such trouble?” Ulquiorra asks, one delicate brow raised.

“Because their record sales are insane and their physical sales are better.” Byakuya sips his drink contemplatively, a faraway look in his eyes. “And because I am the best manager.”

Grimmjow brightens immediately, his eyes glittering. “I  _ definitely _ want to meet him.”

“You so do,” Renji agrees. “Nozarashi is talking about looking for a local band to do their next tour with and I’m fucking praying that Zabimaru makes it because that would be amazing.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Your guitarist is going to kill me,” Grimmjow says brightly.

Renji blinks at him for a few seconds, looking half-confused before realization dawns in his eyes and he bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “Man, you know Nelliel? She’s  _ crazy, _ isn’t she?”

“She’s been coming to my gym and she slid into my last open spot. I’m a personal trainer,” Grimmjow explains, and Renji’s face clears slightly as he nods, looking truly invested in the conversation. It soothes Aizen’s soul to see. “She said she’s in a band and wanted to tone her arms and basically kicked my ass for teasing her about coming to see her one day.”

Renji snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, Nel’s something special. She both hates and loves attention, she loves giving our music out but won’t invite anyone to our shows.”

“Speaking of shows,” Byakuya says quietly, and Aizen’s lips quirk. Ah, so their last conversation with Halibel has still been on his mind. “Are you going to invite her to the Las Noches show next weekend? You said she wanted to come, and now would be a good time.”

“I dunno, it’s like a great time but also can be pretty overwhelming.” Renji exhales through his nose, screwing his face up, at war with himself.

“Las Noches show?” Ulquiorra looks up at Aizen. “What show is this?”

Aizen takes a sip from his glass and sits back, making sure that Grimmjow knows he’s a part of this conversation as well. “We do a show every few months or so where the Dominants and submissives perform together on our stage. It’s open to the public but we’re very careful about who we let in, naturally. It’s a very engaging way to have people interested in the dungeon.”

“It’s basically the best part of the month,” Renji says. “Halibel is gonna be there and she’s like, one of the best Dommes in the world to watch perform. Like… Her control is just insane and she has this way of doing  _ everything _ that just hooks you. But Sosuke? Is hypnotic to watch.”

Grimmjow’s mouth falls open. “You get up onstage and perform scenes live?”

“I do, yes.” Aizen prides himself on his control onstage, on being able to keep his submissives calm and attentive, hanging on his every word like the rest of the audience is not even there. “Usually with Kira or Shinji, though Byakuya and I were discussing the merits of dominating Renji together onstage. We’re still discussing the finer details, though.”

Ulquiorra looks awestruck, squirming a little in his seat. “That sounds very revealing and intimate. I don’t know if I could ever do something of that magnitude.”

“You don’t  _ have _ to, of course, such a thing is a choice.” Aizen pets down the side of his face, smiling when Ulquiorra leans into his touch, exhaling soft and warm against his palm. “Kira and Shinji are accomplished onstage, though you wouldn’t think that of Kira.”

“Who you’ll meet tonight,” Renji adds, lifting his glass as if in mock toast.

Grimmjow makes a choked noise. “Oh, shit, I didn’t realize there were more members of Las Noches in Zabimaru. How many of you are also at the club, actually?”

“Just Kira,” Renji says quickly, waving it away with his hand. “And Kira is only there because he saw Gin, and fell like head over heels in love with him instantly. Like, he was so struck. Which like, man, I  _ get _ it because Gin’s so… Weird, I guess, so like. It makes sense.”

“It makes sense for Kira to fall in love with Gin at first sight because Gin is weird,” Byakuya says, raising his eyebrows at Grimmjow, who giggles at him.

Renji pouts harder and hunches his shoulders. “You are all making fun of me.”

“Gin is eccentric looking to most people because he’s very thin and he smiles all the time, and he’s not so easy to read. He says odd things from time to time.” Aizen wraps a hand around the back of Grimmjow’s neck and enjoys the way Grimmjow purrs and presses into him. It’s gratifying, having him and Ulquiorra react to nothing more than touch so well. “But he is very beautiful in his own way, and I enjoy his company greatly.”

Byakuya smirks at him and Aizen shivers when Byakuya rubs his leg against Aizen’s beneath the table. “Ichimaru Gin is a wicked, wicked man. He was the first person I was involved with at Las Noches because he went out of his way to speak to him. You’ll see him acting in a Dominant roll more often than not, but he’s a switch.”

“I would like to try that,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “Being a switch, that is. I want to try that.”

Aizen nods. “We’ll work on that, then. The next time we three are together, we will.”

Their food comes and the conversation ceases for a moment as everyone tucks into their food, and Aizen feels so incredibly settled in this moment that he doesn’t quite have the words to relay how he feels to the people around him. He catches Byakuya watching him from the other side of the table and smiles freely and Byakuya smiles softly in return, and for a moment it feels like just the two of them are here. Even with other people around them, even across the table from one another, nothing can ever quite strain or quiet the bond between them.

Byakuya slides his hand across the table and Aizen takes it.

“You two are  _ so _ fucking nauseatingly cute with each other,” Grimmjow announces around a mouthful of onion rings, and Ulquiorra snorts loudly on Aizen’s other side. “I fucking love it. I aspire to be this gross and cute in the future. Are they always like this, Ren? This sappy?”

Renji looks startled for a moment before he nods quickly, and Aizen chuckles.  _ The nickname got him. _ “Oh yeah, man, it’s kinda how I ended up falling for Sosuke on my own. Like damn, the way Bya loves him is just out of this fucking world. Out of the stratosphere.”

“You are not threatened by our presence, are you?” Ulquiorra asks him, always so direct and blunt when it counts. “I had considered the possibility that you wanted to see for yourself who we were so that you could decide if you felt our presence was not a positive one.”

“Me? Nah, man.” Renji picks a French fry off of his plate and offers it to Ulquiorra, smirking when Ulquiorra finally leans forward to take it with his mouth. “What I care about is Sosuke being happy. If he’s happy, then I’m happy as fuck. And if he’s happy enough that we get to spend more time with the two of you and we’re  _ all _ happy? That’s the best shit.”

“I’m pretty happy right now,” Grimmjow quips, beaming at him.

Renji’s eyelids flutter a few times before he leans across the table, almost knocking over his own drink in the process and nearly dragging his arm through Byakuya’s plate. “I just want you to know you are sincerely fucking beautiful and I am already in love with you.”

“You are the worst!” Byakuya pokes Renji in the ribs with his chopsticks, looking mollified when Renji yelps and retreats back into his corner of the booth. “I apologize. He’s a flirt.”

“I love attention so I’m all over it,” Grimmjow reassures him.

“He is also the worst,” Ulquiorra says, “so I apologize as well, Kuchiki-san.”

Byakuya’s attention shifts to Ulquiorra and Aizen pauses his chewing to watch the two of them, pretending to be interested in the food on his plate. But the moment Byakuya’s eyes lock with Ulquiorra’s, the smaller man goes stiff all through his body, his lips parting just slightly. It takes so little for Byakuya to snare others in his gaze and Ulquiorra is not immune to him, it would seem, which makes Aizen excited. He wants to know what would happen if the dynamics shifted, or if Byakuya and Renji were involved. He’s selfish like that.

“It’s just Byakuya to you, Ulquiorra.” Byakuya dabs at his mouth daintily with a napkin and Ulquiorra’s eyes never leave his face, his food forgotten. “And there is no need to apologize for your lovely boyfriend. Personally speaking, I love a man who smiles so freely. It means he’s been well-nurtured by those in his life that love him unconditionally.”

Grimmjow nods immediately. “Oh yeah, Quiorra’s the fucking best thing that ever happened to me. I had friends and coworkers who didn’t think it was gonna work out because we’re so different but here we are all over each other constantly.”

“Only the best for my darling kitten,” Ulquiorra murmurs, and then immediately sits up, face red.

“Kitten,” Renji says slowly, looking over Grimmjow thoughtfully. “I guess like a big cat.”

Aizen tilts his head, brushes his fingers over one of Ulquiorra’s burning cheeks just to laugh when Ulquiorra whines and ducks his head, hiding behind his hair. “Don’t be so shy, Ulquiorra. Kitten, is it? He’s like a big lion sprawling in the sunlight when he’s happy.”

“He is,” Ulquiorra confirms, going back to his plate. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

When they finish eating, Grimmjow pays for their food, swatting away Renji’s hands when Renji offers to help. Aizen stands with his arm around Byakuya’s waist, enjoying the closeness of his husband, the familiar warmth between them while they watch Grimmjow and Renji squabble at the register. Ulquiorra joins them after he returns from the bathroom, his fingers warm from the air dryer as he takes Aizen’s hand in his and squeezes it.

“Thank you for this,” he says, and Aizen makes a noise of surprise down at him.  _ I haven’t done anything. _ “Grimmjow loves this place. He brought you here because it’s his favorite.”

The tenderness of the gesture makes Aizen’s chest tight. “He’s such a sweet man.”

“I agree. And so.” Byakuya turns to face Ulquiorra, fingers slipping beneath his chin, and once more Ulquiorra is rapt on him. The sight makes Aizen warm. “I am giving you my seal of approval to date my husband. Not that you need it, but you seen to want it. So it is yours. Take care of Sosuke and make sure he’s happy, and you will never have to deal with me. But he seems so happy with the two of you, so I’m confident in you.”

Ulquiorra nods, wrapping his hand around Byakuya’s wrist, holding it still as he tilts his head to press his cheek into Byakuya’s palm.  _ Beautiful. _ “I will, Byakuya. Of that, I can reassure you.”

“All right!” Renji bounds up to him with, Aizen notes, Grimmjow tucked beneath his arm. “Let’s all get ready to go deaf for the three days because we’re not fucking smart enough to turn our amps down ever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was really fun writing them all out on a date together, i really love these five and their chemistry. i hope everyone is ready to meet zabimaru in the next chapter~


	11. a night of music and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** some banter/flirting

The bar is already packed when they make it there but one of the tables near the front is on special reserve for the four of them, a nice touch in Grimmjow’s opinion. The energy in the bar is wild and free and it makes him vibrate in the best way like all of the nerves in his body might separate at any moment just to join this aura filling the air around him. When Renji had mentioned at the register not to be overwhelmed, that Zabimaru is just fairly popular around this part of the city, Grimmjow thought it more of a boast than anything else. He certainly did not expect to have the building probably at capacity, maybe even over, to see them.

“Hi, Sosuke.” The voice startles Grimmjow, like someone dragging their nails down his spine suddenly, and he turns to see a vaguely familiar man with shaggy silver hair stepping over to their table, sitting himself on Aizen’s thigh without a second thought. “Nice to see you.”

Aizen laughs and wraps an arm around the man’s waist to steady him, and Grimmjow watches them curiously as he sips his beer; thankfully, Ulquiorra is driving. “I wondered if you would be able to make the show, Gin. I presume you’ve come to see Kira perform.”

“We both have.” A woman comes to stand just behind Gin and he sighs, leaning his head back against her considerable chest. She looks exasperated but runs her fingers through his hair just the same, which would only encourage his bad behavior all the further.

“Izuru was so excited about these shows so we made sure to come see him play,” Gin says confidently before his face shifts, and Grimmjow sees just a flash of blue iris before Gin’s strange smile widens. “I see you’ve brought lovely new friends with you.”

Aizen’s smile softens and he nods. “I have. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, I’m sure you’ve heard plenty about them since  _ someone _ has been spreading gossip around Las Noches.”

Renji, leaning down to steal a kiss from Byakuya before he goes backstage, stiffens.

“That I have, that I have.” Gin wraps his hand around the back of Aizen’s neck and uses his new leverage to lean across the table, offering Grimmjow one pale hand with fingers so strangely slim and delicate looking. All of Gin is like this, he realizes, slender and fragile-looking like he might break if brushed against too roughly. “Nice to finally meet you both.”

“You’re the Dominant of one of the guitarists,” Ulquiorra says when Gin touches his hand.

A flash of blue once more, Gin’s eyes opening just a bit before they appear to close. “My, my, my reputation must precede me, then. Izuru-chan does indeed belong to me.”

“Us,” the woman behind him corrects, and Gin pouts at her.

“Of course, that’s what I meant.” He leans up, his pout deepening. “Forgive me, Ran-chan.”

Her expression is stern for a moment longer before she sighs and pats him on the cheek. “Right, right. You should watch that mouth of yours, though, it could get you in trouble.”

_ Holy shit. _ Grimmjow doesn’t notice at first but the more they banter back and forth, the hotter the space around them seems to grow. If this is what sexual chemistry actually feels like, then he can only imagine what the two of them must be like in bed together. Maybe they’ll end up at the Las Noches show in some form or another and he can see for himself.

The woman hauls Gin off of Aizen’s lap once he’s done shaking their hands, keeping her hand clamped around the back of his neck. “Thank you for humoring him, Aizen-san. We’ll be going to sit down now. Gin, say thank you and goodbye now.”

Gin’s smile widens and he tilts his head forward slightly. “Thank you, Sir. Bye-bye now.”

“Matsumoto Rangiku is a woman of infinitely more patience than I will ever possess in my entire body to be able to handle him,” Byakuya muses, and Grimmjow raises an eyebrow at him. “Ah, sorry, kitten, I suppose you don’t know much about Gin. Needless to say he’s very eccentric and his nature is incredibly bratty. Before Rangiku joined Las Noches, no one could really handle him except for Sosuke, so when he wanted to sub, it was… Difficult.”

“They’re childhood friends,” Aizen adds, and Grimmjow nods in understanding. “She moved to the city and came to apply and they just ran into each other once more.”

Stories like this one make Grimmjow feel oddly warm, but he tries not to think too much of it as he glances up toward the stage. What his mind wants to linger on is Byakuya’s casually spoken  _ kitten, _ the small pet name Ulquiorra has only ever used for him and usually on the way to the bedroom or in the bedroom itself. It does something to Grimmjow and it feels odd hearing other people use it, but odd in a  _ good _ way. It’s confusing, to say the least, and he knows better than to overthink things, and yet here he is, doing just that.

Byakuya’s hand comes to rest on his knee and Grimmjow looks at him. “Relax,” he murmurs, leaning in close until Grimmjow feels very small, but safe somehow. “The show will start soon.”

“Thanks.” Grimmjow sets his hand on top of Byakuya’s and squeezes, and Byakuya smiles.

“You should keep an eye on the stage so that Nelliel does not hit you over the head with her guitar in a surprise attack when she arrives,” Ulquiorra tells him, and Grimmjow groans.

“It’s not  _ my _ fault this happened, she should have just told me what her band’s name was so I could actually go out of my way to not see them on accident,” he argues.

Aizen hums thoughtfully. “If you had known, would you not have come then?”

“ _ No, _ I definitely would have come just to annoy her.” Grimmjow wags his eyebrows and Aizen laughs and shakes his head. “Gin’s not the only one who can be bratty, Sir.”

The comment earns another startled laugh out of Aizen and a magnanimous smile from Byakuya, whose hand slides up Grimmjow’s thigh a fraction before he takes it away. Before Grimmjow can wonder what the hell that was supposed to mean, the lighting on the stage changes and the five members of Zabimaru come running out onto the stage. And Nelliel sees him and immediately glares daggers into his soul, but Grimmjow only wiggles his fingers at her in greeting and laughs when she promptly flips him off.

He knows about the other members from what Renji had told him; Kira Izuru is on the other guitar while Renji serves as the vocalist, Shiba Kaien is the one settling behind the drumset, and the bassist hovering near Kira’s side is Hisagi Shuhei. It surprised him not at all to hear that most of them are members of Las Noches, that Renji had met them there and they discussed getting together to start a band over drinks and dungeon dates. In contrast, Nelliel was just someone Renji knew from bartending, and she filled out the necessary role of lead guitarist.

Apparently she sings on quite a few tracks and Grimmjow is  _ so _ ready to listen to her voice.

“What the hell is going on, everyone?” Renji calls out into the microphone, and the bar answers in whoops and hollers as everyone moves to sit down or stand. “We wanted to thank you all for coming out here to see us tonight. This is a pretty far cry from what we’re used to doing so you’re not allowed to have standards for our performance tonight!”

Laughter ripples through the crowd and Grimmjow smiles and leans forward, his eyes doing some pretty shameless things as far as Renji’s body is concerned. He looks so damned _ good  _ up there, all ripped jeans and his shirt traded out for an open vest so the tattoos on his arms and chest are on display. He’s also  _ ripped _ and Grimmjow can just imagine how hard he’s worked for this body, and he looks wild with his hair up tonight.

Renji waits for everyone to calm down before he clears his throat, pointing right to their table. “And I wanna say the biggest thank you to my boyfriends for coming out tonight to see me perform. Everyone quick, look at them right now and make this real awkward.”

Nelliel rolls their eyes and Grimmjow laughs at her, the way she crosses her arms and shakes her head as she fixes Renji with a stern look and mouths  _ hurry the fuck up. _

“Without further ado,” Renji says, ignoring Nel when she advances on him, “we are Zabimaru, and this is “Roaring Howl!”  _ One two three four!” _

Zabimaru, as it turns out, is amazing. Grimmjow is in love after two songs.

He’s never had particularly high standards when it comes to most rock music because he likes the energy more than he does anything else, and Zabimaru definitely has the energy he likes out of a good band. Renji’s great in his role as leader and vocalist, and he never stays in one place for more than a line or two, leaping all over the stage wildly. The twin duet of Nel’s and Kira’s guitars is beautiful, backed up by the deep bass and the rhythmic drumming. And because it’s Renji, he looks Grimmjow right in the eye and hangs his tongue out, lewd and obscene, which sends a bolt of heat  _ right _ to Grimmjow’s dick.

With the way he’d been overly flirting at dinner, Grimmjow almost thought it was just supposed to be a fucking joke or something and he’d been happy to go along. But now his lips part around a breathless sound and he’s distantly aware of Byakuya and Aizen laughing at them.

“Oh dear,” Ulquiorra murmurs between songs. “He seems quite fond of you, Grimmjow.”

The comment has Grimmjow grinning, leaning forward to rest his chin on Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “The attraction is very mutual. You having a good time, babe?”

When Ulquiorra tilts his head, Grimmjow can feel the ghost of a smile against his skin. “Yes.”

Between songs, Byakuya fills Grimmjow in on a few things like the fact that Renij and Kaien are responsible for most of the songwriting, but the others have written a few as well. There’s a mournful ballad from Kira that ends on a high and hopeful note, some downright sinful lines from Hisagi, and Nelliel takes over the microphone to sing an entire song about a phantom lover which has goosebumps breaking across Grimmjow’s skin from the sheer  _ quality _ of it.

“This next song,” Renji says, having had a chance to drink some water and catch his breath with Nel on vocals, “is about someone very important to me. You know it, we all love it. This is “The Monkey and the Moon” and it’s dedicated to my boyfriend Byakuya down in front.”

Byakuya sighs softly, his eyes drifting shut as the music begins, soft and slow. “No one disturb me. This is my favorite song that he’s ever written.”

Grimmjow thinks it might be his favorite, too. It’s a love song though it doesn’t initially strike him as such, not from the beginning lines with notes of longing wrapped around an understanding of the distance between the two lovers in the song. It’s a story as much as it is a song, of two different people finding a way to meet in the middle and discovering that’s where they’re meant to be with one another. It’s  _ beautiful, _ and the intensity of Renji’s voice and the slightest quaver here and there around the most emotional lines have Grimmjow’s eyes growing damp.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the lights on the stage playing off of a slight sheen on Byakuya’s cheeks, his lips moving along silently with the lyrics. When the song finishes, Byakuya’s head drops forward and Aizen shifts to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“He loves him,” Ulquiorra murmurs, and Grimmjow just  _ looks _ at him because of course Aizen loves Byakuya. Until Ulquiorra clarifies, “I think Renji laid his entire heart bare in that song.”

_ Oh. _ “Yeah, it really sounds like it,” he agrees, thumbing a tear off of his own cheek.

Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow at him. “Looks like you were affected by the song, too.”

There’s a moment of silence after the song ends before Byakuya slowly stands from his place at the table and claps, and that leads to the entire bar applauding on their feet. Grimmjow can see the slight wetness in Renji’s eyes as his chest heaves; some of those notes must have taken a lot out of him but he looks so fucking  _ proud _ of himself and Grimmjow can feel that.

He’s proud of Renji, too, just in his own weird little way.

“Marvelous,” Aizen murmurs as they sit back down, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “I think that’s the best rendition they’ve ever done. They’ll have to use that as their stepping stone into the company, I assume. Nothing else would get them in the door faster.”

Byakuya nods, picking up a napkin to dab at the wetness on his cheeks. “He’s always chasing that song, I think, but it’s too raw. Nothing is ever going to top it.”

By the time Zabimaru wraps up their setlist, Grimmjow’s hands are hurting from how much he’s applauded them and his throat aches from how often he’s yelled at them along with Renji playing up the crowd. Ulquiorra keeps stealing looks at him and he  _ knows _ this isn’t Ulquiorra’s scene at all, that he likes different music and rarely if ever goes to live shows, but he thinks his boyfriend is getting a kick out of seeing his reactions and that makes him sticky sweet.

“So this last song.” Renji pauses in front of the microphone and there’s a ripple of enthusiasm through the crowd. “It’s a new song, like I’m sure some of you have figured out. We just got the composition together a few days ago, we’ve been busting our  _ asses _ on it.”

Byakuya tilts his head, then glances at Aizen. “Did he say anything to you about a new song?”

“No, he didn’t.” Aizen frowns slightly and hums, then rolls his shoulders. “Not that I can remember. He must have been saving it as a surprise for us.”

Grimmjow feels a slight twinge in his gut and grins, leaning back in his seat, because he  _ gets _ what is about to happen. He doesn’t know why he feels so strongly that he’s right in this case because he could easily be wrong, but he works with people. He  _ gets _ people.

_ “I did not realize that change had been made. When Sosuke spoke of you, it was in terms of you being Byakuya’s partner.” _

_ “We’ve had ourselves a couple of love confessions since then. So now I’m his, too.” _

“Sometimes in life, you really just. You can’t predict where you’re going to end up or what’s going to happen, whatever feelings you’re going to have. Things change. Life changes and moves on and that’s kinda what we’ve always been about.” Renji pauses and drags his forearm across his face, gleaming with sweat, and looks down at their table.

Aizen sits up straighter and Grimmjow smiles into his glass. He’s so good at this.

“The person you thought would be nothing more than a friend becomes so much more than that and you don’t even know how to process it at first. And then just like that, there’s two people in your heart instead of just one.” Renji turns full-body toward the table and Aizen’s breathing just stops, his eyes widening up at Renji, and it’s like…

The bar is overly full of people, and Aizen isn’t the only person at the table, and Renji is sharing the stage. But none of that matters. Grimmjow can almost see it, the tangible connection between the two of them that just blocks out everyone else. No one else matters right now.

Renji smiles, and it’s broad and beautiful and all gleaming teeth. “I love you, Sosuke. And I’m immortalizing that love right now. This is our new song, “Perfect Hypnosis,” about my other gorgeous boyfriend. You all  _ wish _ you were as lucky as me.”

“Perfect Hypnosis” hits Grimmjow on a gut-deep level, coiling tight and warm just above his crotch and making it hard for him to do anything but focus on Renji, on the captivating purr of his voice. It’s not like “The Monkey and the Moon” at all, not as soft and sweet and heartbreaking; it’s sensual and slow and wraps around them all like dark velvet, like chains and whispered promises and praise. Less of a sweet love story and more of the chronicle of how a man who owned Renji body and mind came to own his soul as well.

Maybe Grimmjow gets a little hard between the words and the music and the way Renji never looks away from Aizen, the way their gazes remain locked. There’s something about it, something almost vulnerable but not quite, a blend of trust and desire and a depth that speaks volumes about a relationship that cropped up in an unusual way.

It probably fits them well. The entire bar stands and applauds once more, and more than a few of the women nearby fan themselves, bumping shoulders and laughing.

Once the set is over, Renji bodily leaps off of the stage and walks up to their table, sweaty and exhausted but grinning like a madman. Aizen regards him from his seat, fingers dipping into the glass of water in front of him, ice collected between his slender fingers.

“Kneel, Renji,” he says, his voice perfectly pleasant. “You’re sweating. Let me assist you.”

There’s a dark undercurrent to his voice but it’s not quite sexual, more of a subtle command that Renji obeys without a second thought. Aizen presses his hand to Renji’s forehead, letting the ice melt against his skin, and Renji smiles, eyes dropping shut at the attention.

“You’re always a surprise, darling,” Byakuya croons, and Renji beams at him.

“You fucking son of a bitch, I told you not to come here.” Before Grimmjow can turn to see who said that or what’s going on, Nel throws an arm around his neck and smashes his face against her chest, giving his hair a particularly rough yank. “Since when do you know Ren?”

Grimmjow sputters and yanks himself back, pretty sure he could drown in Nel’s rack if he’s not careful. “Ease up! I totally just came to see him sing, he asked us to come.”

“I did,” Renji confirms from the floor, and Nel gives him the most disbelieving look and throws her hands up in the air. “What? Anyway, I bet Grimm thinks you’re super fucking cool now.”

“Absolutely.” Grimmjow tips his drink to her and Nel scoffs at him, running a hand through the sweaty mane of her turquoise hair, pulling loose strands off of her forehead. “You were killing it out there. I figured you’d be good but you totally blew my mind tonight.”

Nel looks slightly mollified, giving him a pat on the head. “Good. And thanks for the training because it’s helping a ton already even if I’m sore constantly now. You gotta ease up.”

“No can do,” Grimmjow quips, and Nel flips him off to his face.

“As much as this conversation is probably thrilling, I have fans to go see.” Nel makes it a point to fix the front of her shirt, adjusting her chest before she walks over to a group of women who instantly squeal the moment she comes to join them. Grimmjow is impressed.

“That’s Nel for you.” Rangiku is suddenly at their table once more, dragging over a chair and squeezing it between Aizen and Byakuya. “Sorry, I’m coming to join you for a bit.”

Byakuya waves a hand. “No worries now that the show is over.”

Gin has his own chair, but he takes the space between Ulquiorra and Aizen left open for a perfect view of the stage. “Izuru’s going to talk to his fans and then come sit with us.”

“Fans, right.” Renji clambers to his feet and then leans down to press a quick kiss to Aizen’s lips, a soft thank you. “I’ll be right back. Make sure you save me a seat.”

Kaien and Hisagi end up at another table with some men that Grimmjow doesn’t recognize while Renji and Kira return to their table; Nel has an entire table to herself and a bevy of women that are all vying for her attention and praising her for her hard work. While Renji sits next to Aizen, Kira doesn’t bother finding a chair; he just lets Gin pull him down in his lap and perches there, seemingly fine with the stares he receives for doing something so open.

“I believe I have a new favorite song of yours, Renji,” Aizen says, and Renji smiles slyly at him. “That was quite the surprise. How long have you been working on that song?”

“Since before we had lunch together and talked about things. I’d wanted to tell you for a long time like I said.” Renji’s smile turns slightly wicked and Grimmjow can just pick his words when he drops his voice even lower. “Not that oral’s not a good celebration, but still, a song.”

Aizen has the good grace to flush at the comment. “Maybe you’ll get to celebrate again.”

_ Oral? _ Grimmjow takes a slow sip of beer and God, he really shouldn’t be overthinking things all over again because it never gets him anywhere but he could have sworn Aizen told them to their faces he didn’t like to be touched beneath the belt, that Byakuya was the only exception which made sense. But Renji… Is apparently also an exception, and that shouldn’t bother Grimmjow because Aizen has known Renji longer. He’s probably a hell of a lot more comfortable with him.

So it’s wildly unfair that the thought niggles in the back of his head like this.

Ulquiorra’s hand on his knee stabilizes him and he winks his boyfriend’s way before turning back into the conversation. “How long have you guys been performing to be so good?”

“Just over a year together now,” Kira answers him, Renji and Aizen too caught up whispering back and forth to each other for Renji to hear him. “We met as Las Noches and Renji knew Nel from work, and we… We used to sound  _ awful _ back before we knew what we were doing.”

Gin hums, pets a hand down Kira’s stomach tenderly. “No, love, you sounded just fine. You just sound better now that you have a feel for your own personal style.”

“I remember the early days. Boy, do I remember the early days.” Rangiku looks almost distant for a moment before she smiles, propping her chin up on one hand. “You’d come home with this big cute smile on your face because you were just so happy to get to play at all. Our cute little musical boy finally getting a proper outlet for all of his creative drive.”

Kira flushes and ducks his head. “Rangiku-san, you’re going to embarrass me.”

“You should sing a song of your own next time,” Gin adds. “You have a lovely voice.”

“Didn’t you used to play in a band in high school, Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra asks.

“If you can call it  _ playing _ or a  _ band _ in the first place.” The memory makes him wince; they’d been so painfully bad that when he’d found the music files buried on his old laptop, he’d wanted to drink as soon as he heard them. “Never really had the same ear for music, I just liked the idea of being in a band. I think that was the problem with all of us honestly.”

“It’s hard work,” Kira confirms, sipping from his bottle of water and looking so thoroughly relaxed with Gin’s arms wrapped around him, Gin’s sharp chin resting on his shoulder. He’s  _ cute, _ Grimmjow thinks, with his overly long bangs and cute fingerless gloves. “We used to be at each other’s throats over everything and it took a while to figure out what all of our best abilities were so we could complement each other. But we finally got it all together at long last, I think.”

Byakuya hums thoughtfully, brushing his hair back behind his shoulder before leaning in. “That must be why you’re all suddenly talking about getting signed. It used to just be a side project.”

“A hobby, yeah,” Kira agrees. “But we’re serious about it now. It just feels like there’s something between us and we don’t want to keep it to ourselves. I’d kill to tour with Soifon. Her image and style is so cool and I think it’d be a fun show, but like. Gotta get on a label first.”

“If your series of shows go well, I’ll talk to Zaraki about it.” Byakuya winces at the man’s name and Grimmjow laughs. “Nozarashi is  _ adamant _ about having a local band on with them. This might be the foot in the door you need to get signed.”

“Are you all in careers that you can give up if you needed to sign to a label?” Ulquiorra asks.

“I mean, yeah. Renji’s a bartender, Nel’s a waitress, Kaien teaches martial arts and Hisagi works at a pet store so we’re not exactly tied down anywhere.” Kira stretches a hand back to run through Gin’s hair, who sighs and cuddles even closer to him. “I’m just a student in college so I can put that on hold if I have to for the music. It’s not a big deal.”

Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow. “Just a student? How do you pay for your schooling, then?”

“I pay for it, actually.” Rangiku lifts her chin like she expects a challenge and Grimmjow whistles as he looks down at his drink, not even wanting to  _ think _ about walking into this conversation. “He was working two jobs when he first visited Las Noches. Once I collared him, I told him he could just quit those jobs and focus on school. It was easier on him.”

Grimmjow does his best to keep a straight face as he raises his glass to his lips, intending to hide behind it as soon as he finishes speaking. “So like, a sugar momma then.”

Kira sputters and turns bright red while the rest of the table laughs— even Rangiku, thankfully, and Gin, who tries to hush Kira and calm him down while snickering all the while. But that’s what it  _ is _ all things considered and Grimmjow is almost  _ almost _ jealous of him for being able to land such a sweet relationship where all he has to do is go to class and play music and come home to a hot pair like Rangiku and Gin. Some people have all the luck.

“What’s going on?” Renji asks, finally surfacing from his conversation with Aizen.   


“Nothing, sweetheart, go back to wooing my husband into bed.” Byakuya pats him on the face and Renji grins at him, lopsided and sweet. “Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, not that I don’t want to get to know the two of you better, but we do have work in the morning unfortunately because Nozarashi have an interview and that means all hands have to be available to immediately start mixing the inevitable mistake Zaraki is going to make on  _ camera _ this time.”

“Are you two going to be fine getting home?” Aizen asks, cool and relaxed even as Renji leans in to kiss the side of his neck. Grimmjow’s mouth goes dry at the sight.

“We are, yes. I think we’ll stay just a bit longer and fraternize.” Ulquiorra stands to hug them each goodbye, though, and Grimmjow clambers to his feet to do the same.

Renji is obviously going home with them, but that’s okay because he’ll probably just stay the night and to be fair, they might need all the orgasms they can get tonight in case they have to deal with drama in the morning. Grimmjow is definitely not the tiniest bit jealous, but he can’t shake the remark from earlier, the thought that Renji is allowed to touch Aizen when they can’t, that what Ulquiorra had done for him was maybe the extent of what they could do.

_ It’s not fair, _ Grimmjow thinks as he lets Byakuya kiss him on the cheek.  _ Did he seriously have to go home to his husband to get off after that first scene? God, I feel like shit about that. _

“You and I,” Renji announces, planting both of his hands on Grimmjow’s waist in the most exaggerated of motions, “are going to get along really well, I think.”

“Are you going to write a song about me, too?” Grimmjow asks, yelping when Renji pulls him close, Renji’s mouth warm against the side of his neck and over his ear.

“Maybe,” he says, a low singsong word before he leans back to kiss Grimmjow goodbye properly, which surprises him. “Later, guys. I hope we get to spend time together soon.”

The three of them make their exit and Ulquiorra smiles fondly after them before sitting back down at the table, and Grimmjow follows him, trying not to let it bother him. They’d had a great night out, Renji is hot for him, there’s really no reason that tonight was not absolutely perfect in all ways and lingering on the smaller details that hardly matter is dumb.

Just the same, he lingers. It makes him the slightest bit uneasy to think about it, because he  _ knows _ Aizen has boundaries and they’re in place for a reason. But it still feels awful to realize that Aizen had given them that evening, would give them  _ more _ than that… And would hardly get anything in return for it. He deserved everything he would let them give him—

_ Oh, _ Grimmjow thinks, glancing at Ulquiorra, who has moved on to be deep in conversation with Kira about graphic design and what it entails.  _ Fuck, Quiorra. What if we’re the ones not allowed to touch him at all because we did something to make him uncomfortable around us? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything really was almost perfect this evening but then that little bit at the end popped up and now grimmjow is worried! also like i feel like this doesn't really need to be said because no one has ever implied i don't know what i'm doing but i can definitely handle the issues that are about to come up irt trans issues and dysphoria issues 'cause i am also trans.
> 
> don't worry tho, this will get resolved for real in a scene that i came up with before i ever started writing this and, in a way, it's the scene i've been building to all this time.
> 
> the next chapter will be more porny aizen/byakuya/renji!


	12. fantasies on a tour bus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** some heavy implications of body dysphoria
> 
> **sexual content:** explicit sexual content, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, sexual roleplay, exhibitionism and voyeurism, multiple orgasms, very porn with feelings

As soon as the front door is shut behind them, Renji’s hands are under Aizen’s thighs, lifting him off of the ground with impressive strength considering just how much he’d been moving around onstage. There’s no lingering hint of soreness, and he doesn’t even make a sound of discomfort as he bears all of Aizen’s weight in one fluid motion that startles a squeak out of Aizen’s mouth the moment he realizes his feet are off of the ground.

“Did you like my song?” Renji asks, eyes glittering brightly up at him, wrapping Aizen’s legs around his waist while Byakuya just shakes his head and locks up the house.

“I can’t believe you sang a song that was very transparently about BDSM onstage in front of that many people,” Aizen admits, slinging his arms around Renji’s neck and enjoying the closeness, warmth, and strength of the man holding him. “Yes, I loved it. It was borderline erotic.”

Renji smiles at him and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Aizen’s lips. “That was the whole point.”

“It was a very good song,” Byakuya says when he returns to the room, hand smoothing along the small of Aizen’s back, sending a pleased shudder up his spine. “Let’s retire to the bedroom. As your number one groupies, I think sleeping with the lead singer is well in order.”

“Oh man.” Renji’s hands slide a little higher, threatening to grope Aizen’s ass at a moment’s notice. “Oh man, can we… This is going to sound  _ awful _ but can we roleplay that?”

Aizen’s mouth falls open a little in shock and then he grins, threading his fingers through Renji’s hair. “Get in the shower and wash all of this sweat off and we definitely will do that.”

Renji looks like he’s going to  _ die _ and hoists Aizen up higher around his waist, twisting around to carry him up the stairs while Byakuya follows behind them, an indulgent smile on his face. It’s not often they do something like this when Renji has always been so happy to do whatever they want to do but after that show, after that  _ song _ Aizen thinks this is well in order. As usual, Renji had been incredible onstage, keeping the crowd in rapture the entire time with his voice and his energy, and then he’d closed out the show with a song about how he fell in love with Aizen while learning to kneel at his feet. He  _ knew _ exactly what he was doing.

And if he and Byakuya are going to work in the music business, they might as well get some fun out of the concept. They’ve handled more than enough groupie-related scandals.

Renji sets Aizen on the bed and leans over him to give him another kiss, all lips and tongue before he pulls back and makes a beeline for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back!”

“He’s something else,” Byakuya murmurs when the bathroom door closes, perching on the edge of the bed with Aizen. “Your boys were cute tonight, by the way. Very sweet. Once you know them a little better, we should invite them over to the house. I think they’d like that.”

Aizen breathes a sigh of relief and nods, resting his cheek against Byakuya’s shoulder. “They’re so sweet, I could tell how excited they were. And I’ll have to invite them over after the way Renji looked at Grimmjow. He clearly wants to be more than just friends.”

“Ulquiorra is very cute,” Byakuya adds, “though he probably feels quite short around the rest of us, I imagine. But those eyes of his were like gems. Very beautiful.”

“He is,” Aizen agrees before turning, pressing a kiss to Byakuya’s cheek. There’s a heat burning in his gut and he wants to try something new himself tonight, something to surprise Renji with the same way Renji surprised him with that song. He’s just a little nervous, a little tense, a little uncertain of what his reaction is going to be and he doesn’t exactly want to  _ ruin _ the mood.

But Byakuya knows him all too well, turns soft grey eyes on him. “What is it, darling?”

“If I let him touch me, what do you think he’d do?” Aizen tries to keep his voice even but Byakuya’s eyes widen just the same, his husband turning to face him properly. “I don’t think I have to be wary of his reactions, of all things, but you know how hard that can be.”

Byakuya nods, his hand coming up to cradle Aizen’s face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw until Aizen sighs and leans into the touch, the warm reassurance. “I understand. Renji would be so respectful of your boundaries and your body and the instant you told him to stop, he would.”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m concerned.” Aizen shakes his head at himself but Byakuya only hums and kisses him, all soothing touches of lips and tongue until he sighs into it.

They both hear the moment when the shower shuts off and they lean away from each other, turning their attention toward the bathroom door. It takes Renji a few minutes to come out and when he does Aizen’s breath sticks firmly in his throat at the sight of him, all tanned slightly damp skin, wet hair choked back into a ponytail. And because it’s Renji, Aizen can see the moment when he slows his gait into something more of a swagger, flicking off the bathroom light behind him even as he lingers in the doorway, watching the two of them.

“I don’t remember anything about letting fans onto my bus,” he muses, voice light and singsong. “Ah, but I remember you two. You were front and center for the entire show.”

“We were. You were so amazing, Abarai-san.” Byakuya is too good at this immediately, adding a slightly breathy quality to his voice as he bats his lashes in Renji’s direction.

Aizen takes a breath and softens his own voice, fidgets with the bottom of his shirt and peeks up at Renji shyly. “It took us  _ ages _ to get those tickets but it was so worth it just to watch you perform up close. You were so incredible. We were swooning the entire show.”

Renji flushes hot and Aizen tries not to grin. “Flattery will get you pretty far in this world.”

“Security doesn’t even know we’re back here! We had to be sneaky.” Aizen giggles and he swears he can see Renji’s entire body tensing up, reacting to the teasing tone of his voice. “But we had to meet you. We had to show you how much we appreciate you.”

And with that, Byakuya peels his t-shirt over his head, letting the shirt tumble from his hand and onto the floor, all lean and toned upper body, soft pale skin on display. “We really, really do.”

“When you put it that way, it’d really be wrong to turn you away. You worked so hard to get back here and I always said I do it all for the fans.” Renji grins at them, all teeth and Aizen smirks at him, tugs his shirt over his head just to watch that expression falter. “Especially when it’s two gorgeous guys like you two. By all means, feel free to stay the night.”

He drops the towel, then, and Aizen’s throat never fails to tighten just a little at the sight of his cock. Even half-hard, Renji is impressive in size, thicker than most men Aizen has ever had the pleasure of being with. The fact he’s obedient to a fault means that whatever they want him to do with that cock, he does it without question, and his stamina is impressive when it needs to be. But they aren’t playing those games right now; Renji prowls up to the bed and Aizen’s stomach gives an excited little lurch a moment before he’s pushed back on the bedspread, Renji’s hands pulling his wrists up above his head and pinning them there.

From the outside, it would have looked rougher than it is. Renji’s grip on his wrists is light enough that Aizen could shake it off in a heartbeat, and his weight is well-balanced so Aizen gets all of the heat of Renji’s shower-warm skin instead of the heavy press of his chest.

“What’s your favorite song, hmm?” Renji purrs against his lips, not quite kissing him, pulling back just a little when Aizen tries for one. His free hand maps out a path on Aizen’s side, almost tickling him with the lightness of the touch. “I bet you’d know every word.”

Aizen arches up against him for friction instead and bites his lip, pretending to think it over even as Renji’s fingers brush the top of his jeans. “I liked the new debut. It was so sensual.”

“Oh yeah? Thanks. I worked real hard on that one.” Renji’s fingers dip just a little lower to the buckle of his belt, easing the leather tongue out of the square of metal with practiced ease. “You should see the man it’s about. Poised, in control, so sensual and dominant he could eat up all of your senses until the only thing you can see is him.”

“Is he as attractive as I am?” Aizen asks, smirking when Renji pauses in his ministrations.

“No,” Renji finally says and Aizen bites back a laugh, chokes on a soft moan when Renji presses along the seam of his jeans, following it between his thighs. “Not even close.”

Byakuya leans over to help him, unzipping Aizen’s jeans. “I agree. Sosuke is  _ gorgeous. _ ”

The attention shifting makes his head swim and Aizen’s breath hitches in his chest; he rolls his hips up against Renji’s, laughing a little when Renji swears, body spasming in answer. “Well, I worked very hard to dress up for you. We wanted to catch your eye, after all.”

“How could I notice anyone else in the crowd when you two were right there?” Renji dips down to kiss him, and Aizen sighs against his lips, melts against his chest.

Byakuya’s fingers don’t stop at the fly of his jeans, though, sneaking beneath the fabric to press up against his mound, tracing his slit through his boxers. Aizen jolts at the contact, gasping against Renji’s mouth and Renji takes full advantage, tongue slipping between his lips to curl against his own. It feels  _ unfair _ that they’ve somehow managed to turn this around and make it about him and he’s starting to wonder if they can communicate without words now.

Soft lips mouth against the side of his neck, teeth nipping at the skin there. “Should we give you a show, first, Abarai-san? We practiced, too. We wanted to make it lots of fun for you.”

“Is that so?” Renji pulls back and Aizen pouts at the loss of contact. “Well then by all means, show me what you’ve been working on to show me. Part of being a good performer is learning to recognize the merits of a great performance when you see one, after all.”

He moves up toward the pillows and leans heavily against them while Byakuya crawls up onto the mattress, taking Aizen’s hands and pulling him up as well. This is easier; they’ve done this before, Aizen’s fingers sifting through Byakuya’s long hair as he pulls his husband in close and kisses him, one hand tracing down his spine to squeeze his ass through his jeans. Byakuya groans audibly against his mouth, the kiss hot and rough, all tongue and lips. And Byakuya gives as good as he gets, Aizen’s jeans loose enough that Byakuya can slip his hands under them, under his boxers and against his bare skin.

“Oh,” Byakuya whispers against his lips when one hand presses between Aizen’s thighs. The angle isn’t quite right but it’s right enough. “You’ve soaked through your boxers, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” Aizen murmurs in return, and Byakuya smiles wickedly at him.

But he’s not one to let anyone else take the reigns and so he pushes Byakuya back on the bed while his hands are occupied, when he can’t do anything but fall back against the mattress with Aizen on top of him. His hands are just as quick, just as clever, have Byakuya’s jeans down around the tops of his thighs and his briefs bunched together on top of them within the space of sixty seconds. Before Byakuya can even register his surprise, Aizen is kissing down his chest.

He should have let Byakuya finish undressing him, his boxers rubbing against him in the most obscene way, almost too rough against his skin. But Byakuya’s pleasure comes first, so Aizen yanks his pants down just low enough and drags his tongue over Byakuya’s folds.

“Fuck,” he can hear Renji whisper, catches sight of a tanned hand wrapping around a swollen cock out of the corner of his eye. It only goads him on at this point.

Aizen likes oral sex, both giving and receiving. He likes to think he’s good at everything but this is one of his favorite things to do, clasping Byakuya’s hand and letting his eyes fall shut as he gives himself over to the task of bringing his husband pleasure. He isn’t the only one who’d soaked through his boxers, it appears; Byakuya is wet and hot on his tongue, slippery against his mouth and he shivers at the way Byakuya moans loud and shameless for him.

He has Byakuya’s thighs trapped so they can’t spread too wide, just wide enough for Aizen to wedge his head between them, feeling the plush softness tight around him as he teases his tongue along Byakuya’s slit before delving between his folds. He’s so sweet on Aizen’s tongue, so loud and responsive and vocal, and every flick and twist of his tongue only serves to make Byakuya wetter. He laps over his opening all the way up over his clit, teasing it out from beneath the hood before sucking hard on it. Byakuya wails, arches up against his mouth.

Renji moves and Aizen isn’t expecting it, Renji’s hands on the top of his jeans, yanking them down his legs, taking his boxers with them. Cool air washes over his hot skin and then Renji pushes his thighs apart, mouth ghosting hot air along the inside of his thigh before he kisses Aizen where it counts, tongue lapping the wetness away from his skin with practiced ease.

_ Fuck. _ They’d turned it around on him again. Byakuya’s hand slides into his hair, holding him in place while Renji’s big hands on his hips keep him where he is; caught between them. It takes him a whole minute to realize what they’re doing and his heart thuds furiously against his ribs because he’s  _ between _ them and they’re showing him that’s just where they want him.

“God, you’re soaking wet,” Renji rasps between his legs and Aizen shudders, tongue lashing out hard against Byakuya’s clit, drawing a strangled sound from his lips.

“You did this to him, you know.” Voice breathy and strained, Byakuya manages to sound dry and matter-of-fact. “That song got him all wound up. I couldn’t just bring him home like this. I wasn’t going to be able to handle him all on my own.”

Renji laughs and presses his tongue between Aizen’s folds, teasing over his entrance for just a moment, fingers biting into his hips. “Well I’ll be more than happy to help out.”

“A-Abarai-san.” It takes Aizen a minute to get his name out and Byakuya’s fingers trace down the side of his face, as if telling him to relax, easing the tension from his body. He can trust Renji with his heart; his body should be child’s play in comparison. “Touch me  _ please. _ ”

Renji stills behind him, breath hot against his vulva. “Wh-where do you want me to touch you?”

He’s asking for clarification but it still makes Aizen’s face hot; he takes one of Renji’s hands, peels it off of his hip and he can  _ hear _ Renji’s breath trembling, can feel the way he tenses slightly before letting Aizen guide his hand between his thighs. There’s a pause where Renji seems to wait, seems to be expecting Aizen to change his mind and then his fingers brush along Aizen’s slit, spreading him open, his tongue delving deep inside of him.

“Very good.” Byakuya frees Aizen’s hair from his ponytail, runs his fingers through it, then winds it around his fingers and guides Aizen’s mouth back between his legs.

It lets him focus on something other than Renji’s fingers between his legs, touching him with a tender reverence and intimacy that makes his heart crawl up into his throat. Byakuya’s thighs clamp tight around his head, ensuring he can’t move and Aizen moans against him, laughing when the vibrations have Byakuya’s hips bucking up against his mouth. When he looks up, Byakuya isn’t looking at him; he’s looking  _ past _ him and the thought makes Aizen’s blood hot.

He’s almost not expecting it when Byakuya comes, thighs squeezing just tighter, a high-pitched little cry leaving his lips before he falls limp back against the mattress, panting hard. His chest is flushed and his hair is a mess and he’s  _ beautiful _ and Aizen is so lucky to have him.

“Abarai-san.” Byakuya still manages to singsong his voice, sweet and cute. “Why don’t we move Sosuke up to the top of the bed? He’s held out surprisingly long. Let’s take him apart together. It can be like a collaborative effort.”

Renji makes a noise against Aizen’s skin and lifts his head, and Aizen swears the two of them are trying to kill him. “I’ve always wanted to do a collaboration.”

Together they manhandle him back onto the pillows, Byakuya kicking off the rest of his clothes as he goes, and even his own heavy breathing and slightly trembling hands don’t seem to slow him down. He cradles Aizen’s face in his hands and kisses him even as Renji flattens out against the mattress between his legs, mouths over his mound before his fingers are there once more, slipping between his folds to press against his clit.

“How does it feel?” Byakuya asks him, kissing along his jaw up to his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe until Aizen whimpers softly. “To have him touch you. Do you need him to stop?”

Aizen shakes his head, though it’s more of a half-hearted jerk than anything else, groaning when Renji slips just one finger inside of him. He’s so  _ tight _ but wet and Renji is so careful, always so careful with him. “It’s a-amazing. He can keep going. Please don’t let him stop.”

Byakuya kisses him again and his hand wanders down, softer than Renji’s own, tweaking Aizen’s nipples until they’re stiff and hard and he’s gasping, choked between Renji’s mouth and Byakuya’s fingers. Byakuya’s hand slides lower and then there’s a second finger inside of him and his head spins just a little at the pressure, the thought that  _ both _ of them are inside of him making him throb and shudder and almost gush. And Renji makes an aborted little groan against his skin, licking and sucking everything he can get his mouth on.

When he comes, it’s high and sharp and makes him feel hot and flushed all over, thighs shaking with the force of it, eyes squeezing shut against the impossible rush of heat in his body. Renji braces a hand on his hip to work him through it while Byakuya kisses his throat and whispers soft words into his skin, so close, a reminder he’s right here.

They both are. It’s fine, because both of them are right here with him.

“Are you okay, Sosuke?” Byakuya asks, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“‘M good.” His head feels floaty right now but it’s pleasant, and he likes the way Renji’s cheek rests against his thigh, hair slithering against his skin. “We aren’t done, though.”

Byakuya chuckles softly and nods, pressing their faces closer together, voices low enough that Renji seems not to be able to hear them. That, or he’s just overwhelmed and not listening. “How should we go about it? I think he’d be down for just about anything now.”

“Inside of me.” The words trip over his tongue and spill into the air and Byakuya leans back to look at him, eyes wide, lips parted just a little. “Unless you’re against that.”

“Are  _ you _ sure?” Byakuya asks, and the insistent nuzzle against Aizen’s cheek belies just how concerned he is. After all, Byakuya is the only one who’s ever been inside of him and it’s almost always been with Aizen on top, controlling everything, setting the pace because it was the only way he ever felt comfortable. It wasn’t until much later that he stopped that.

But Aizen smiles softly up at him and nods once; he’s sure. Just this once, he can afford to be sure. “Yes. I trust him. He sees me… For who I am. I don’t need to be afraid.”

Byakuya’s face softens and Aizen sees the faintest glimmer of tears before Byakuya kisses him, feather soft against his lips. “My brave man. I’m always so astounded by you.” And then Byakuya leans back and looks down at Renji, who is just staring at them.

He’d heard some of it, then. Judging by the wonder on his face, he heard all of it.

“C’mere.” Aizen holds his arms out and Renji is there in a heartbeat, arms sliding under Aizen’s back to gather him up against his chest. “Easy, Ren. I know you’ll do right by me.”

Renji makes a somewhat snuffling noise against his nose and Aizen giggles, and maybe his eyes sting just a little too because it’s a big step for him. “I promise I will. I’m not going to fuck up when you let me into your life and into your heart and trusted me with your body. I don’t know what you’ve gone through, not exactly, but I don’t need to to know how amazing you are.”

“Hush.” Aizen kisses him and Renji holds him so close, so tender. Not like he’s made of glass or too fragile or delicate but like he loves him, like he wants to show it, like he wants to be the best he can be. Just like he’s promised. “Now show me what you can do for me.”

“A moment.” Byakuya shifts Aizen up into a sitting position and slides behind him, wrapping his arms firmly around him, nuzzling the side of his throat until Aizen sighs and relaxes back into his arms. “I want to be right here just in case you need me. And because I want to hold you.”

Aizen’s breath catches and he nods, letting his head fall back against Byakuya’s shoulder. “Okay. I like having you as close as possible, anyway.”

Renji steals just one last kiss before he slides off of the bed, knowing where to go to get the lubricant, skipping a condom because it’s not like Aizen has the same concerns that other trans men can have. They’ve been partners long enough that he knows Renji is clean as well and he’s never minded a little mess here nor there, not when it comes to sex.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” Renji’s voice is raw and rough with emotion when he comes back to the bed, his eyes raking over Aizen’s flushed and sweaty body, not lingering on any one part of him. He just seems to drink in the whole image, swallowing hard. “I say it all the fucking time but I really am lucky to have two beautiful men like you two in my life.”

Byakuya clears his throat and there’s that familiar purring edge in place when he speaks. “You should be grateful,” he murmurs, and Renji grins at him as he comes to kneel between Aizen’s legs, one hand darting up to stroke along one of them. “No one else but me has ever been granted this privilege, so you better make sure he doesn’t regret it.”

“I will.” Renji nods and his voice is serious even though his eyes are soft. “I’d never dream of hurting you, Sosuke. And I’m going to repay you for this a thousand times over.”

“I know you are. I trust you.” And it feels so good to say that, to look up into Renji’s warm brown eyes and feel safe here, between him and Byakuya. Where he belongs now.

Renji smiles and one very small tear escapes his eye. “Thank you so much for this.”

He’s so careful with his fingers and he uses a liberal amount of lubricant even though Aizen is certainly wet enough from his mouth and his orgasm, careful as he stretches him open. He’s slow and methodical, his gaze slightly unfocused as he works, knowing more or less what he’s doing because he’s been with Byakuya enough times to have a handle on it. And behind him, Byakuya hums softly, rubbing soothing circles into Aizen’s stomach even as his gut churns, heat slowly inching through his veins as Renji’s fingers touch everything soft and sensitive inside of him, thumb stroking over his clit in irregular but easy sweeps.

When he has four fingers in and Aizen’s legs are shaking from the effort and the pressure, only then does he slick his cock and move to replace his fingers with it. Aizen’s taken him before, just not like this, but he’s always a little struck at how long Renji is, how wide he is, and how it doesn’t hurt because Renji is so exquisitely careful with preparation like he’s determined to make it as painless as possible every single time.

“Fuck.” Renji’s jaw clamps tight and his eyes squeeze shut and his muscles bunch, like he’s doing his utmost to hold himself still, to remain as slow as possible as he slides in, slick and hard. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Even with all that work and you still feel like this.”

Aizen’s legs are shaking properly now, his eyes almost rolling back in his head at how much it is, how he’s tight and that makes Renji feel bigger, rubs him against everything sensitive inside of him, stimulating nerves in every direction until… until—

His body jolts and trembles and shakes without his urging, the orgasm rolling over him hot and sweet, stealing the starch from his muscles and leaving him limp in Byakuya’s arms. He hears the soft, faint, surprised noise of his husband behind him while Renji makes a disjointed and strangled noise as if he thinks he must have done something wrong.

“I believe you just made him come again.” Byakuya chuckles a little and Aizen swats at the arm around his chest, his chest heaving with every breath. “So start slow, Ren. He’ll be oversensitive now, so pushing him too hard might hurt him even with how careful you’ve been.”

Renji stares down at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, chokes on air a bit and nods quickly as he eases out and back in, slow rolls of his hips that prompt little noises to spill from Aizen’s throat. He’s so sensitive and swollen and it’s almost too much, almost enough to make him tell Renji to stop, that he can’t take it. And then Renji leans over him and kisses him, his lips so soft and warm and trembling faintly against Aizen’s mouth, and it’s fine.

“Easy, baby,” Renji says, his voice husky when Aizen cries out softly against his mouth. “I’ve got you and I’m gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

He means it. He  _ means _ it and Aizen kisses him again, no finesse, far past that.

Every movement of Renji’s body is slow and calculated, smaller rolls of his hips making Aizen gasp, his body writhing in Byakuya’s hold. And Byakuya whispers low and soothing in his ear, a warm reassurance at his back, fingers tangled with his own, the hands with their weddings rings and Aizen feels choked up and turned on and the pleasure burning hot and heavy in his gut only builds more and more until it feels like he’ll pass out the moment it crashes over him.

Renji is swearing softly, trying to hold himself back, trying so  _ hard _ and Aizen traces the line of his face, the edge of a cheekbone and the strength of his jaw and then pulls him down into another kiss, wanting him close, wanting Renji  _ everywhere. _ Every shivery thrust of Renji’s cock deeper inside of him makes him keen and plead— For what he doesn’t know, just  _ please please please _ dripping from his lips over and over as the heat inside of him reaches a fever pitch.

“Hold it just a little,” Byakuya whispers and Aizen  _ can _ because he has the discipline even as he tightens impossibly around Renji’s cock, feeling every throb of him. “Let him catch up.”

Renji laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m almost there,” he slurs. “Let go, Sosuke.”

He can’t even say  _ thank you _ because his voice disappears in a scream.

It’s  _ intense, _ burning through every cell in his body even though he’s so sore, even though it feels like he shouldn’t be able to take it at all. Desperate wet noises keep tearing their way from his throat and there are tears slipping from his eyes not even because of anything but just the intensity of it all, the waves of pleasure that keep lapping like flames on his skin, the fact Renji’s hips jerk and twitch against his own, his own orgasm finally hitting. Aizen feels like he’s going to collapse at this rate, his voice so hoarse and his throat sore.

When it finally ends, Renji draws out of him as slowly as he can and then he’s there, wiping the tears off of Aizen’s cheeks, kissing him, swallowing his little reactionary noises.  _ It’s okay _ and  _ we’ve got you _ and  _ I love you _ all soothing, washing over him, easing the tension in his body.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Renji kisses the side of his nose and Aizen giggles, and it feels like his body might just dissolve at any moment. “You’re so fucking good to me. Was that good for you? I mean you came twice but I’m not gonna make any assumptions.”

Byakuya snorts. “You and your manners when it comes to the bedroom.”

“It was amazing. I…” Aizen swallows and it feels like his heart is trapped in his throat once more, making it hard to say what he needs to say. “I love you, Renji. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for proving… For proving that you love  _ me _ and you see me for who I am.”

Renji’s face softens and he nods, pulling Aizen out of Byakuya’s arms and against his own chest, hands smoothing up and down his back. “Yeah,” he says, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears himself, so it’s fine. “You definitely don’t gotta thank me. I’ll always see you.”

Aizen tries not to cry. He really does. It’s a beautiful moment and breaking down is going to ruin it but it feels like something knotted around his chest finally loosens and falls away, leaving him feeling so much freer than he has in years. He clings to Renji and presses his face against Renji’s throat and just lets it out, ragged sobs that make his body shake and ease all of the pain out bit by bit. He feels  _ raw _ but it’s good, it’s so necessary.

Byakuya is there a moment later, pressed against his back, the two of them keeping him safe and warm between them. Reassuring touches from the man who has stood at his side for over a third of his life now and soft kisses from the man who walked into his life and made himself a place in Aizen’s heart in such a short time it’s still vaguely shocking.

“Let it out, my love.” Byakuya kisses his shoulder, the side of his neck. “You’re safe here. Let it all out and we’ll keep you together while you fall apart.”

Of course they will. They would never do anything less. Aizen knows that, feels it through the very core of his being, and cries out the uncertainty and fear and self-loathing in their arms, the one place in this entire world where he knows he’s always safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this chapter was very cathartic, i feel like aizen's been struggling with this for a while now, the real desire to just let people in and trust them and renji's finally gotten on the level that they've both wanted him to be at. and of course byakuya is there as the backbone of everything because he loves them both and wants the best for his boys.


	13. distractions and skipped work days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** self-loathing and intrusive thoughts, painful flashbacks
> 
> **sexual content:** heavy petting, undressing, light bondage, dirty talk

Ulquiorra wipes the document in front of him clean and starts over for the third time today.

When Grimmjow left for work, Ulquiorra considered crawling back into bed and letting sleep overtake him once more with no real care whether or not he did work on the projects he has coming up. Procrastination might be a bad habit of his but if he missed even one deadline, he would probably stop that instant. The problem is that he never has, which enables all of his bad decisions and makes it that much easier for him to fuck up over and over again.

_ Everything was fine! _ Ulquiorra groans and slams his tablet down on the counter, forcing himself to his feet and making a beeline for the refrigerator. Fuck it being eleven in the morning, he wants a beer.  _ Everything was fine. The husband and the boyfriend like you. So what’s wrong? _

That… Is a good question and Ulquiorra is not entirely sure he has the answer he should have, the one that will grant him some understanding of why he wants to backpedal out of all of this and go back to their normal lives once more. Everything was going just fine, they were having fun with Aizen, and the dinner date had been an exciting venture where Ulquiorra felt like they wanted him and Grimmjow there. Before Grimmjow, there had been an endless stretch of men who used him and walked away from him… Maybe he’d gotten too used to that. Maybe he just keeps waiting for it to happen again every time something like this happens.

There are plenty of things wrong, he supposes, picking a bottle out of the refrigerator and using the magnetized key on the door to open it. The taste is bitter on his tongue but it focuses his thoughts, which is what he needs right now. Fuck it, maybe he needs to get drunk.

_ “It’s not like we don’t care about you, Ulqui. You can’t just… Act like we don’t, or like we’re throwing you away because you’re being difficult. You don’t want this. You never did.” _

That slams hard to the front of his brain and Ulquiorra swears, slams the bottle down on the kitchen counter and crosses the room, swinging open the back door and stepping outside into the cold, bracing air. It’s going to be winter soon and he shivers in the chill, his thin t-shirt doing little to protect him, and with the sky overheard a deep grey, he doesn’t even have sunlight to potentially warm him up. That’s fine, he supposes, because he feels cold inside, too.

This is not how he wanted to spend the week. It’s been five days since that music show and he truthfully enjoyed it, loved the music and had bothered Aizen for downloads so he could play it while he was working. And then everything just came crashing down around him today.

Maybe trying hard is not going to make this work. Maybe trying at all just isn’t worth it.

“Don’t do this to yourself again,” he says, slumping against the wall of the apartment behind him, closing his eyes and trying to focus himself inward. Grimmjow  _ wants _ this, Ulquiorra can see it in his eyes and God help him, but he wants it, too. Whatever that means, he  _ wants _ it. “Don’t freak out and fuck everything up again. Doing it once was  _ more _ than enough.”

_ “I did this for you, didn’t I? I am doing everything in my power to make this work. I’m the one who keeps trying to have conversations when things are tense. I’m the one trying to make everyone here sit down and talk. Why are you acting like I don’t want it?” _

_ “Because there’s more to a relationship than talking! You’re here for me, because I wanted this, and I understand that. I do. But it has to be for you, too. It  _ has _ to be something you want.” _

Amazing how her voice still has the power to twist his guts up and make him sick.

Ulquiorra should be grateful the past is in the past, that he was able to grow through that experience and continue on with his life because it led him to Grimmjow and the life he has today. He’s happy with what he has these days, and if he manages to make this work with Aizen, then all the better. He was immature then— they all were, not just him no matter how many times they want to paint that as being his fault— and maybe he didn’t want it as much as he should have, hadn’t worked as hard as he should have worked.

Fuck, he doesn’t know. He never really settled his feelings on that, just shut himself down emotionally and moved on with his life because the sting of losing that relationship burned him for over a year. When Grimmjow finally hit on him, it felt like a sign.

And now here he is, panicking over something stupid all over again. About to fuck things up.

When he steps back into the apartment, his skin numb and his nose stinging from the cold air, it takes him a solid five seconds to realize his phone is ringing. And then he has to throw himself across the kitchen to rip it off of the charger and fumble to answer it.

“My apologies,” he breathes into the phone, hoping he doesn’t sound like he just sprinted across the kitchen out of the cold. “This is Ulquiorra Cifer. How can I assist you this morning?”

The amusement on the other end of the line is clear.  _ “You don’t check your caller ID, do you?” _

“Byakuya?” Ulquiorra blinks a few times as the familiar smooth, deep voice registers in his brain and then he sighs, slumping down at the kitchen table, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I was outside and I just focused on answering the phone. How can I help you?”

_ “Your voice sounds off. Are you all right?” _ The concern is real, Ulquiorra realizes.

_ No, I’m not all right. _ “I’m fine. Just tired, I suppose. Straining myself, the work just isn’t coming out the way I want it to right now. It happens from time to time. If you were trying to get a hold of Grimmjow, he’s at work and he usually keeps his phone turned off during that time.”

_ “If I was looking for Grimmjow, I would have simply left a voicemail.” _ Byakuya chuckles and Ulquiorra furrows his brow, too tired for playing these games.  _ “I’m surprised you don’t seem the least bit interested in how I procured your phone number in the first place.” _

The comment has Ulquiorra blinking slowly, his mouth falling open as he realizes that Byakuya is right, that he hadn’t given the man his number that night before he left the bar with Grimmjow in tow. Grimmjow would not have done such a thing without asking his permission first, knowing very well that Ulquiorra values his privacy and likes to pass his personal information out himself, so that would leave… Aizen. Who had given his husband Ulquiorra’s phone number.

What the fuck.

“Sosuke must have given it to you,” he says plainly, and Byakuya hums at him.

_ “That would be correct. I wanted to talk to you face to face today, if that was all right. I’m about to go on my lunch and it’s not all that far from your apartment.” _ Which Byakuya… Would also know from Aizen, which means he must have asked for both pieces of information.

Again, what the fuck. Ulquiorra is so far beyond understanding the two of them.

“I can swing that.” If he just stays here in the apartment, he’s bound to not get any real work done anyway and he might drink himself into a stupor before Grimmjow comes home, which is not a good look and will clue Grimmjow in that something is wrong. “I need to get dressed and I can meet you somewhere. Where would you like to meet at?”

_ “No need, Ulquiorra, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” _ And then the call cuts off.

Ulquiorra stares at his phone for a moment before he trudges upstairs to get dressed, peeling off clothing as he goes and leaving it in a tangle at the foot of his bed. He has no idea where Byakuya wants to eat, but there is nowhere fancy around here so he settles on something casual, jeans and a heavy sweater to protect him from the chill outside. His hair is a mess and he takes a moment to yank a brush through it, forcing the knots out of his hair so that he looks somewhat presentable. There are dark circles under his eyes; he’d stayed up late last night to work and now he’s paying for it, but there isn’t much he can do about that.

This is going to have to do if he only has ten minutes to get ready.

He slips on boots because his feet have a nasty habit of getting cold and is just gathering up his wallet, phone, and keys when he hears a horn honk outside. Ten minutes  _ exactly. _

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but it’s been one of those days.” Byakuya has already leaned across the front seats of his very nice car to push open the passenger door. “Sosuke mentioned the general location of your place when he came to visit. I had to bother him for the address.”

“Is he busy today?” Ulquiorra asks, buckling his seatbelt and shutting the door quickly.

Byakuya nods, adjusting the rearview mirror slightly as he backs out of the driveway. “Just another day in public relations. My schedule is a little kinder today.”

“Renji busy too?” It would make sense that Byakuya asked him out to eat if all of his options were exhausted because it’s not like he’d have a  _ reason _ to want to see Ulquiorra.

The question has Byakuya pausing, fixing a frown on Ulquiorra as he sits at the bottom of the driveway and half out on the street, which is probably at least mildly a traffic violation. “That’s a very peculiar question you’re asking me. Almost like you think I checked in on everyone else before I called you to come out and eat. Is that what you think I did?”

Ulquiorra feels exactly one foot tall at that question and the tone of Byakuya’s voice. “Maybe.”

“That’s not the case. I wanted to see you today, dear. When I realized I was close to your place, I bothered Sosuke for your phone number and address so I could be exact.” Byakuya frowns softly at him and then pulls out onto the road, heading for town, the selection of shops and a few small places to eat there. “You really do think so little of yourself, don’t you?”

“I don’t know why you’d think that.” It’s  _ true _ but Ulquiorra hates that he figured it out so fast.

“I’ve met people both in my public and personal life who fit the mold well enough for me to figure it out ahead of time and take care of it as quickly as possible.” Byakuya stops at a light, glances at him and Ulquiorra hates how unreadable the man’s gaze is. “Where do you want to eat? I’ll buy you lunch since I dragged you out of your place to spend time with me.”

Ulquiorra flushes at the comment. “You don’t have to. I have money.”

“Oh, I assume that you do. But I’ve already offered.” Byakuya smiles warmly at him and Ulquiorra tries not to fidget more, indicating a cafe just within eye’s range. “There? You got it.”

The cafe is a favorite of Ulquiorra’s with some of the best coffee he’s ever tasted, and they sell just enough of a variety of foods that he can justify eating there without feeling like he’s skipping a meal or just filling up on pastries. But as a result of coming here so often, most of the staff has learned to recognize him which means the poor girl at the counter who smiles and moves to greet him looks absolutely gobsmacked a moment later when she realizes Byakuya is not hovering next to him or just behind him but is actually with him.

Of course she’s staring, Ulquiorra rationalizes. Byakuya is beautiful, almost ethereal.

“Order whatever you want,” Byakuya says, and the girl blinks at Ulquiorra in shock.

They put in their order and then Byakuya takes him by the elbow, fingers pressing just slightly into his skin as he guides Ulquiorra over to a booth near the window where plenty of natural light spills in. The clouds outside match Byakuya’s eyes with an uncanny similarity but unlike the cold outside, Byakuya’s gaze is warm as it settles on Ulquiorra, his focus just enough that it doesn’t quite feel uncomfortable, but it could get there quickly if they are not careful.

“I was really struck by you the night we met officially,” Byakuya tells him, dragging the small basket of sugar packets over in front of him, long fingers carefully setting them in order. “I was the night we first met, too, but you were in a hurry and you were so upset then.”

Ulquiorra presses his lips together; he remembers that evening all too well. “I must make quite a lasting impression, then. It was a long time before we saw each other again.”

“It was. But I didn’t forget those eyes of yours. I didn’t know green could burn.” Byakuya looks up at him when he says it and Ulquiorra feels his cheeks warm at the words.

“Why did you really want to meet me here?” Ulquiorra asks him, pausing when a waitress brings them their order, setting their coffees and food out on the table— soup for him, to ease the cold inside of him, and a sandwich for Byakuya. When she leaves, he picks back up. “I’m not stupid, Byakuya. I might be quiet but I’m very intelligent. I’ve graduated from university, too, and I work freelance which means I can manage my own business contracts. And this feels not unlike when a client wants to meet face to face to discuss a job with me. So, what is it you want?”

Byakuya sighs softly, leaning back in his seat, hands disappearing beneath the table. “You are so forward now. Sosuke said he was worried you weren’t forward enough. If he could see this…”

“So you did want something.” He doesn’t know why it disappoints him to realize that, but he doesn’t touch the spoon beside his bowl. The thought makes his stomach hurt a little.

“Yes.” Byakuya unfolds the wax paper around his sandwich with a primness that Ulquiorra envies just a little. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to spend time with you specifically without the others around. I don’t know if Renji is busy because I didn’t bother to check. I didn’t want him here, and I knew Sosuke would be too busy to come. Does that seem unfair? It might be.”

He says it so clearly and without any hesitation and Ulquiorra blinks at him slowly, his mouth falling open as he tries to think of something to say to him. Nothing comes out so he ends up gaping like a fish before he retrieves his spoon, busying himself with his food so he doesn’t have to say anything at all. When Ulquiorra was finally able to admit to Aizen that he wanted… More than just a sexual relationship, he had been elated just at the thought of having Aizen.

Elated, and maybe a little nervous. Maybe a little sick to his stomach at the thought of things falling apart like. But he hadn’t thought for a second Byakuya would want to see him.

“I don’t think I understand why we’re having lunch together,” he finally spits out.

Byakuya pauses to wipe his mouth with his napkin before he speaks. “Because you are so very beautiful, and so quiet, and I want to know more about you. Grimmjow is easy to read and understand, and his personality is very loud and forward. It wasn’t hard to pick up a lot of information about him in a short amount of time. You’re a closed book, in contrast.”

“Are you worried about that?” Ulquiorra is at a loss. This is harder than it has any right to be. “Are you worried I’m going to cause problems for your husband?”

“My husband.” Byakuya fixes him with a look. “ _ Your _ boyfriend. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Ulquiorra ducks his head. He’s so fucking  _ bad _ at this and this conversation is just reminding him of the fact. “Yes, of course, I just… I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

“I know, darling. No one starts out being good at it. It takes a good amount of time before you can figure out all the finer details.” Byakuya’s voice is soft and coaxing and Ulquiorra manages to tear his eyes away from his food long enough to look up once more. “There we go. Don’t be so skittish around me. We were fine the other night. What’s made it so hard between us now?”

_ The others aren’t here to be a buffer between us. _ “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ulquiorra.” Byakuya rests a hand on top of one of his own and Ulquiorra bites his lip at the gentle touch. “I wanted to get to know you better because I liked what I got to see of you. Is there really anything wrong with something like that?”

Ulquiorra shakes his head and drags his spoon through his soup, watching the meat and vegetables float softly in the golden broth. “No. I’ve just been having a bad day, I guess.”

“I thought it was something like that. I heard it in your voice.” Byakuya’s fingers skate over the back of his hand and he shivers because it’s… It’s so unlike Grimmjow, really.

“I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like, surely… Surely things can’t just be this good, I can’t be this lucky.” He laughs a little at the thought and bites back the urge to tell Byakuya everything because that’s only going to ensure that this falls apart, sews seeds of doubt in his ability to make this work. “Sosuke is an amazing man. Grimmjow really likes him. So do I, but I just… I’m sorry. You wanted to get to know me, not listen to my pointless problems.”

Byakuya’s features are sharp and beautiful, deadly in a way that only good genetics can possibly explain. That, or a miracle of God. But now his face is soft, the corners of his full lips turned down just slightly. “You’ve had a very hard morning all by yourself, hmm?”

“I didn’t expect a visit to a sex club to turn into something like this.” He doesn’t think any of them did and wonders when it became less about the sex and more about the emotions.

Ulquiorra is so bad at emotions. It’s laughable. Grimmjow brings out the best in him, but alone—

“Finish eating.” Byakuya squeezes his wrist and then leans back, his phone appearing in his hands. “Don’t say a word. Just sit there and eat like a good boy.”

A steely edge wrapped in Byakuya’s velvet voice has Ulquiorra responding before he realizes it, watching as Byakuya taps the screen of his phone before raising it to his ear, his expression distant. The call connects and he clears his throat, almost rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I… No, nothing is wrong, I just— Yes, I told you that before I left.” Byakuya pinches the bridge of his nose, picking at his sandwich as he listens to the voice on the other end of the line with a pained expression. “Yamada, I called you for a purpose, can you… Okay, you’re listening? Good. An emergency has come up, I’ll be out for the rest of the day— No, it’s a personal matter and I can handle it just fine without you calling Sosuke.”

It takes another few minutes for Byakuya to get off of the phone but as soon as he does, Ulquiorra clears his throat. “What emergency just came up?” he asks.

“That’s just the same bullshit excuse I give every time I take off work for the day. There usually isn’t anything but I don’t have any clients to handle and if I do, they have my number.” Byakuya winces at the thought and then clears his voice, picking his sandwich back up, tearing a piece of lettuce off and pointedly not looking in Ulquiorra’s direction. “I want to try a scene with you.”

The words have Ulquiorra’s spoon clattering against the side of his bowl. “Excuse me?”

“You’re in your own head and you’re overthinking a lot of things. That’s not abnormal in this situation, but it’s a lot more beneficial to believe what you’re told at face value,” Byakuya says.

Ulquiorra’s voice is flat when he replies. “People lie. You can’t just naturally trust them.”

“Why am I not surprised that you just said that?” Byakuya fixes him with a look and Ulquiorra withers under that expression, ducking his head and staring at his food once more. “BDSM is built on the concept of trust. You don’t trust that I wanted to see you all alone today. You don’t trust that we can care about you. That’s fine. We just have to build that trust naturally.”

“Through sex doesn’t sound like a way to build trust,” Ulquiorra mutters at his food.

Byakuya snorts. “You’d be surprised, I think, just how much you can convey in such an intimate act when it’s someone you care about. Casual sex is very real. What I’m suggesting isn’t that.”

Truth be told, Ulquiorra’s head is spinning almost too hard for him to properly process what he’s being asked to do right now. He hadn’t expected this when Byakuya asked him to come eat with him, had been expecting… He doesn’t know what he was expecting. To be a surrogate for whoever Byakuya truly wanted to spend time with, to just be a casual chatting partner until it was time for Byakuya to return to work. Which he wasn’t even going to do now.

For the first six months he and Grimmjow dated, Grimmjow never missed a day of work. The first one had been when Ulquiorra was too sick to keep any food down, heaving into the trash can beside his bed every time he even tried to drink a glass of water.

“I don’t understand,” he protests, and Byakuya raises an eyebrow at him. “Why me? Why now?”

Byakuya gives him the most disbelieving look of all time and falls back against the booth once more; the man seems full of dramatics when it comes right down to it. “Why y— Fuck, I know it’s prying to ask, but what was your life before Grimmjow that you don’t understand  _ why _ you?”

Ulquiorra frowns, not liking that question at all. “That doesn’t matter. Why now?”

“I thought you’d dodge the question. That’s fine. You don’t have to answer. The goal would be one day, you just tell me of your own volition.” Byakuya nods to himself, as if all of this is turning out just how he thought it would, which frustrates Ulquiorra all the more. “Why now? Because you’re sitting here doubting I could ever want you and that annoys me. I showed clear interest in you. I wanted to spend time with just you. And you still doubt me and my intentions.”

For as blunt as both Grimmjow and Renji had been that night, it was Byakuya’s forward behavior that shocked Ulquiorra the most, as had his reaction to it. Touching Byakuya so freely, feeling like he could just press into his touch— It’s  _ obscene _ to think he did that in a public venue and just the memory makes Ulquiorra feel hot and uncomfortable all over.

Byakuya nods, looking mollified. “Exactly. There it is. I see it in your eyes now. You’re  _ upset _ and far be it from me to sit idly by and let you stew in your own sadness in such a way.”

“I’m good at stewing in my own sadness. Usually I channel it into my work, but…” Ulquiorra swallows a mouthful of broth, his throat sore, not used to this much talking. “But I was blocked today, thinking about everything. I don’t know what sex has to do with any of this, though.”

“You won’t let any of us in without a fight, but Sosuke said you were open with him.” Byakuya’s voice slips soft, musing, and Ulquiorra watches him carefully. “You’re stressed, you’re keyed up and frustrated and I can see it in the way you’re carrying yourself. An orgasm or two would take that out of you and help you calm down. I can offer that freely.”

It’s on the tip of Ulquiorra’s tongue to ask him why he would even want to, but the last time he poked holes into someone’s intentions in such a way… He doesn’t want to think about it.

“You need to finish eating, though.” Byakuya returns to his sandwich. “You’ll need the energy.”

Ulquiorra could just tell him no and demand to be dropped off at home and left to his own devices, but what the fuck is he going to do? Drink after all? Risk breaking his tablet? “Okay.”

Trying something new might be good for him, anyway.

Byakuya pays the bill and tips generously enough for Ulquiorra’s eyebrows to dart up, but he’s not given much of a chance to think about it. The minute he stands up from the table Byakuya is there, fingers tipping his chin up like they had in the restaurant, warm against his skin. He has nice hands, smooth skin, well-manicured too. But there’s a command in the subtle touch and then he’s leaning down, covering Ulquiorra’s mouth with his own.

It’s sudden and Ulquiorra doesn’t know what to do, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides before he slowly, tentatively sets them on Byakuya’s chest. He’s dressed in a suit properly today, but his tie is loosened and the top of his shirt is open, a couple buttons undone.

Unfair, because Ulquiorra looks comically bad in suits and nice clothing in general.

“There you are.” Byakuya kisses him again and Ulquiorra’s fingers dig into his shirt just a little, a gasp tearing from hs lips because it’s a lot. It’s so much and he almost can’t process it. “Warming up for me already. I bet everyone in this cafe is jealous right now.”

_ Of me or of you? _ But he doesn’t ask because Byakuya strikes him as the kind of corny asshole who would say  _ of me _ without a single pause. “We’re not doing it here, are we?”

“God, no.” Byakuya laughs against his lips and Ulquiorra smiles, a little unsteady but feeling much better about this. “I just couldn’t go without giving you a kiss any longer. I was thinking about your mouth when we were in the restaurant, but it seemed… Improper.”

Byakuya takes him by the arm and leads him back to the car, and Ulquiorra’s hands are trembling on his thighs as he takes his seat on the passenger’s side once more as they drive back to the apartment. Sex with Byakuya— Okay, maybe he thought about it. It’s been five days and the set ended with Renji basically bragging about how good Aizen is at sex in front of a live crowd, so sue him for being a little keyed up about all three of them. It wasn’t like Renji hadn’t spent a good amount of time flirting with and borderline groping Grimmjow.

If Renji was allowed to be interested in Grimmjow, Ulquiorra could be interested in Byakuya. It was hard  _ not _ to be, the man was so effortlessly beautiful in a way Ulquiorra couldn’t understand. But it drew his artist’s eye just the same and made him long for something more traditional, something like charcoal and white paper just to see if he could capture those lines.

“You’re staring,” Byakuya informs him at the light without even glancing at him.

Ulquiorra lowers his lashes but does not quite break his gaze. “I apologize, Sir. But you’re lovely and I was only admiring that up close and in this lighting.”

“Oh, a sweet talker. That’s interesting. But Sosuke said you were relatively quiet during your scene together so I was wondering.” Byakuya smirks and Ulquiorra realizes that his words absolutely did not affect the man at all. He was probably used to hearing them. “That’s fine. I’ll enjoy tearing your voice from your throat until you can’t say anything at all.”

The comment has Ulquiorra’s mouth drying out, his tongue feeling improperly large in his mouth.

Byakuya walks around the living room of the apartment while Ulquiorra locks up and, according to instruction, texts Grimmjow to let him know he’s going to be indisposed for a while and not able to answer his messages or calls. That everything is fine, and not to worry. Then Byakuya’s hands are under his sweater, warm against the small of his back.

“Poor thing. You’re cold.” Byakuya brushes the hair off of his forehead, pressing a kiss there before he pulls the sweater up and over Ulquiorra’s head, draping it over the back of the couch. “I’ll make sure to keep you nice and warm, though. Wouldn’t want you to freeze.”

“I get cold easily, Sir.” Ulquiorra swallows when Byakuya removes his tie in one fluid motion.

Byakuya loops the tie around Ulquiorra’s throat, tying it with efficient fingers, then giving the tongue a tug, taking a step back as he does. Ulquiorra steps forward with him, flushing all the way up to his hairline at the way it feels, being led around like this. “I can handle that.”

He pauses at the foot of the stairs and Ulquiorra hovers in front of him, not sure what to say, not sure what Byakuya wants from him. Those deep grey eyes stare into his and up this close, he realizes they aren’t totally grey, that there’s an undercurrent of lavender shot through them.

Does Byakuya have to keep getting more attractive? It’s making him feel self-conscious.

“Safewords,” Byakuya says, and Ulquiorra nods. “Tell me what they are and what they mean.”

“Red means we cease all activity and move to aftercare,” Ulquiorra recites, folding his hands in front of himself. He’s chilly, and the apartment is not warm enough. “Yellow means we pause so you can check on me and figure out if we need to change direction or cease a certain activity.”

“Very good. I want to take you upstairs and take you apart.” Byakuya’s fingers dance down the side of his face and Ulquiorra leans into the touch shamelessly now that they’re alone. “I want to put my tongue and my fingers inside of you and I want to hear all the pretty noises you’ll make for me. I’m going to tie your hands, though, so you can’t touch yourself. You can only orgasm when I decide you’ve done enough to earn it. Does that sound good to you?”

Ulquiorra sways on his feet at the dark promise in Byakuya’s words, the intensity of his gaze. “Will you talk to me while you do it, Sir? I don’t like it when it’s too quiet.”

“Of course, I can do that. I have to praise you.” Byakuya hooks a finger beneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Ulquiorra’s lips before he tugs on the tie, starting up the stairs. “Now follow along, sub. I’ve been waiting to get you in bed, and I am not terribly patient.”

The bed is not made and Ulquiorra’s clothes are still on the floor but Byakuya hardly seems to mind, leading him over to the bed and stretching him out on the mattress, arranging his limbs the way he wants. The tie comes off and up around his wrists, knotted neatly around them to keep them together, and the way Byakuya presses them into the pillow leaves little room for interpretation. If he moves them, he’s going to be in trouble.

Liquid heat pools in his belly as Byakuya strokes a hand down his chest, fingers tracing delicate lines against his skin until Ulquiorra shivers from the touch. It’s then that familiar soft concern touches Byakuya’s face. “That’s right, you’re cold. Allow me to assist you.”

He presses slow, soft kisses against Ulquiorra’s skin, starting at his throat and working his way down, tongue swiping wet and hot over his skin until UIquiorra feels almost feverish from the heat building up beneath his skin. Byakuya lingers over his nipples, licking and sucking until they’re almost painfully hard, until Ulquiorra is whining and writhing up against his mouth. He’s good with it, too good almost, teeth scraping over his skin and making Ulquiorra tremble.

“Grimmjow is a lucky, lucky man to have such a pretty and responsive lover.” Byakuya leans back to look down at his handiwork, hands darting down to Ulquiorra’s jeans, quickly unfastening them. “But it looks like today is my lucky day, sub. I’m not going to waste it.”

Ulquiorra nods up at him, head spinning, hips lifting to help him remove the jeans. Fuck it. Fuck the voices in his head, the memories, the certainty all of this will implode.

Right now, there’s just him, just Byakuya’s hands on his body and the control on the tip of his tongue. Ulquiorra could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ulquiorra maybe wasn't quite being honest when he said he doesn't know anything about polyamory and only distantly knows that some relationships haven't necessarily worked out~ he's got a bit of a past going for him that we'll get into as time goes on and he has to face the issues head-on so he can work them out
> 
> but for now he's got byakuya taking care of him.


	14. after all, sharing is caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** very slight angst notes on grimmjow's part
> 
> **sexual content:** bdsm scene, anal fingering, handjobs

Between the text message from Ulquiorra and the text message from Byakuya, Grimmjow cannot possibly ignore the heat singing beneath his skin when he comes home.

He hangs his coat up on the rack, takes off his shoes, hangs up his keys, and sets his phone on the wireless charger on the counter, leaving his wallet beside it. Though he knows he should make something to eat before he tries to go upstairs and no doubt walk right into whatever is waiting up there for him, he finds himself drawn to the staircase just the same. His foot has only just settled on the bottom step when he hears a high, breathy cry that has goosebumps breaking across his skin, his mouth falling open as he processes who the sound came from.

_ Ulquiorra. _ Quiet as he usually is in bed, it is entirely possible to make him that loud, but Grimmjow has always struggled to drawn more than a few soft moans from him.

He takes the stairs two at a time, forcing himself not to run and lingering at the partially-open door for a moment before he pushes it open. At first he sees nothing, Byakuya’s lean body positioned in such a way that Grimmjow can only see his back, the fall of his dark hair. And Byakuya must hear the door open because he tilts his head, dark eyes pinning Grimmjow in place, a silent command to remain still and not to speak.

The fact he can pick up on this without having to be told says a lot, he thinks.

“Grimmjow, welcome home.” The low purr of his voice makes Grimmjow’s cock jump, the promise laced in those words. “Ulquiorra, do you want him to stay out of the room?”

No one else would have had the courage to imply they can just kick Grimmjow out of his own bedroom in his apartment, but there is no hesitation in Byakuya’s words, in the stern expression lacing his pretty face. So Grimmjow remains and waits for Ulquiorra’s answer.

“He c-can watch, S-Sir.” And Grimmjow almost hits his knees then and there.

“The chair, then.” Byakuya nods in the direction of Ulquiorra’s favorite reading chair, the one where Aizen had brought him to orgasm while Grimmjow watched the two of them.

Grimmjow sits down without a second thought and turns his attention to the bed, almost swallowing his tongue when he sees the state Ulquiorra is in. Black hair a mess against the bedspread, hands tied together above his head and twisted up in the pillowcases, legs spread wide where Byakuya kneels between them, knees drawn up to his chest just a little. Even from here Grimmjow can see the slickness around his hole, the pink of his rim stretched around two of Byakuya’s fingers. His cock looks untouched in comparison, hard against his stomach, the tip leaking wet on his bare skin. His pale skin is flushed, splotches of pink and red.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Byakuya’s fingers shift in deeper and Ulquiorra cries out again, head thrown back, arching off of the bedspread just a little. “I could have never imagined this.”

The fact Byakuya is talking about imagining anything intimate with Ulquiorra at all just makes Grimmjow’s cock that much harder, and he lazily massages his groin as he watches Byakuya’s fingers work between Ulquiorra’s legs. “He’s always gorgeous, but this… Is fucking amazing.”

“Well put.” Byakuya braces a hand on the inside of Ulquiorra’s thigh, massaging the soft skin there as he fucks Ulquiorra open with his fingers. There’s so much lube that it makes a filthy, obscene wet sucking noise every time. “You’re doing so well for me, sub. I’m pleased.”

Ulquiorra shifts restlessly on the bedspread, his lips— swollen, wet, bitten deep red from how many times he’s probably tried to hold in the noises spilling so freely from his throat now— parting around helpless little sounds. “Th-thank you, Sir. It feels so good.”

Byakuya hums, clearly pleased with this information as his thumb slides beneath Ulquiorra’s balls, rubbing against lube-wet skin. “That’s very good to know. This is all about your pleasure, after all. And you feel so good, sub. So hot inside and tight around my fingers.”

_ Fuck. _ Grimmjow presses down harder against his erection, watching Byakuya’s long fingers glide in and out of Ulquiorra’s ass with slow, measured movements. They pause every so often, curling, pressing  _ up _ until Ulquiorra cries out, strained and desperate, his legs trembling as the stimulation assaults every single nerve. Grimmjow knows how good it feels, had been on the receiving end enough times to know prostate stimulation can be absolutely mindblowing but he can’t believe he gets to see Ulquiorra like this, unwound and so submissive.

When Ulquiorra said he wanted to try switching, Grimmjow expected Aizen to be the one who took advantage of that. Clearly, he’d been wrong on that front.

At no point does Byakuya touch Ulquiorra’s cock, removing his fingers only to press back in with a third one. Ulquiorra’s breath trips, meaning he’d definitely noted the change but he only rocks his hips down, taking Byakuya’s fingers so well it makes Grimmjow ache, makes him clench down hard around nothing even as his cock throbs. He’s never been so turned on in his fucking  _ life _ and it’s just from watching his boyfriend get fingered by another man.

Another man who, despite having never touched Ulquiorra before this afternoon, seems to be able to figure out just what to do to tear him apart. Ulquiorra cries out again and his hips jolt, twitching and jerking with every movement of Byakuya’s fingers— He must feel so full on them, spread so wide and so strung out on his touch that he’d do anything for it.

Had Byakuya eaten him out first?  _ Probably. _ Grimmjow’s head spins a little at the thought and he swallows back a moan, rubbing himself the best he can through his clothes while he watches Byakuya keep Ulquiorra successfully on the edge of an orgasm. The flush in Ulquiorra’s skin only seems to deepen and when he shifts, Grimmjow can see how slick his skin is with sweat. How long have they been at it? Ulquiorra’s text had come about an hour ago.

The thought of Ulquiorra being tied up here, at Byakuya’s mercy, for that long…  _ Holy shit. _

“You are so lovely,” Byakuya whispers, and Ulquiorra looks up at him through heavily-lidded green eyes, lips parted around a desperate little whining noise. “So beautiful. I am incredibly lucky to have you so sweet and open for me now. This is exactly what I wanted.”

Grimmjow swallows hard at the words, watches Ulquiorra’s chest heave with every breath, watches him leak more pre-come onto his stomach. He’s never seen Ulquiorra so wrecked, not once in his life, and it’s making him seriously wonder if he’d done Ulquiorra good enough during the years they’d been together. Maybe he should have taken the leading role once or twice if Ulquiorra was going to enjoy it this much. At least now he has people who can teach him.

“Grimmjow.” Byakuya’s voice shifts when addressing him and Grimmjow leans forward, listening intently, eyes focused on those petal pink lips. “Go draw a bath for Ulquiorra. Add something soothing to the water. I want him to be as relaxed as possible. Do that, and perhaps you will be given a reward for your good behavior.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow bounces to his feet and almost chokes when Byakuya wedges a fourth finger inside of Ulquiorra, whose eyes roll back in his head.

He doesn’t have time to watch, though, moving quickly to do what Byakuya has asked him to do so he doesn’t incur punishment in the meantime. Though most people probably would not have expected it from them, they both have quite a few different scents around the bathroom and Grimmjow moves with practiced ease, glancing through the collection of bath soap— he  _ likes _ long baths, especially in the winter time— before picking a couple he knows will mix well. Bubbles froth under the water, the air filled with relaxing scents.

When he returns to the bedroom, Byakuya has shifted position, working Ulquiorra with one hand, the other tracing a pattern down the length of his slender chest. “Done, Sir.”

“Come sit on the bed with me.” Byakuya pats the space next to him and Grimmjow crawls up onto it, watching Ulquiorra’s eyes slowly drift to him. They’re glassy, his pupils blown out, his gaze soft and fuzzy and Grimmjow has never seen Ulquiorra like this before. “I want you to wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him very slowly. He’s been waiting for this orgasm for quite some time, but I want to make sure he luxuriates in it.”

Grimmjow’s mouth feels dry as he nods, slipping his fingers around the hot and heavy length of Ulquiorra’s cock, hand curling around him from muscle memory alone. “Yes, Sir.”

“Talk to him, as well,” Byakuya murmurs. “He doesn’t like the quiet. Tell him what you think of him like this. Have you ever seen him like this before?”

“I haven’t.” Grimmjow wets his nervous lips and strokes Ulquiorra slowly, fingers dragging over the length of him, smoothing the pre-come over his heated skin. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, Ulquiorra. Sweaty and hot and letting him take care of you. I hope it feels so good, the way his fingers feel inside of you. You deserve it.”

Byakuya’s lips curve up into a sweet smile. “He does deserve it. And we’ll give it to him.”

Between the combined stimulation of their hands, Ulquiorra is a mess. His hips struggle to find any coherent rhythm between their hands, his breath coming out stuttered and quaking, and his cries are higher and brighter, so loud it makes Grimmjow’s heart thump faster against his ribs. He’s hard, too, but that’s distant compared to the way Ulquiorra feels in his hand, the slippery sounds of Byakuya’s fingers as he fucks Ulquiorra open. He’s so close, he has to be, but he doesn’t come, fingers twisting helplessly in the pillowcases beneath his head.

Grimmjow has loved him for so long, but he’s so painfully aware of it right now.

“Ask me, sub.” Byakuya’s fingers press  _ up _ and Ulquiorra sobs, his entire body quaking. “I know you know better than to come without permission. You’ve held out so prettily for me. Now ask me for what you want, and ask politely.”

“Please, Sir.” Ulquiorra’s body bows and he pants, eyes glazed with lust and need and  _ trust. _ “Please let me come, Sir, I’m so close. I want it so bad. Please, Sir,  _ please. _ ”

“Ah, that never gets old. Come for us, sub.” And Byakuya’s fingers press  _ hard _ and Ulquiorra screams, spilling hot and wet across Grimmjow’s fingers and his own stomach.

Grimmjow focuses on stroking him through the orgasm, feeling Ulquiorra’s cock twitch and throb in his grasp, watching the way his hips buck and tremble and jerk before he finally collapses back against the mattress. With slow ease, Byakuya removes just one finger at a time, and Grimmjow’s gut clenches hard at the sight of Ulquiorra’s slick and stretched hole, the rim almost red where Byakuya had been holding him open. This is not what he expected when he walked into the room, but he damn sure isn’t about to complain about it.

Byakuya grabs a handful of Kleenex off of the nightstand, wiping the lube off of his fingers before moving to clean up Ulquiorra’s ass. Grimmjow helps, wiping off his own hand and then Ulquiorra’s chest and stomach, careful not to rub too hard. His eyes are still glassy but this time with emotion and when he inhales, it comes out in a soft sniffle.  _ Oh, baby. _

But Byakuya is practiced, moving to gather Ulquiorra’s face in his hands, pressing slow and tender kisses to his lips until the tears that seemed on the verge of falling stopped. “There, now,” he whispers, wiping a trail of drool away from the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth. “You did so well for me, sub. Lovely and desperate to please even though I stretched you so thin.”

Ulquiorra nods in his hold, pressing his cheek up against Byakuya’s palm, lips mouthing at his skin. “Thank you, Sir.” His voice is slurred, husky and warm.

“I’m going to put you in the bath now.” Byakuya slides off of the bed and gathers Ulquiorra up in his arms, holding him carefully against his chest while his eyes meet Grimmjow’s once more. “One more favor. Get something cool to drink and something easy to snack on from downstairs. Nothing too heavy, though, we had lunch right before we came up here.”

Grimmjow moves without a second thought, retrieving a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator and a couple of bananas from the counter all on autopilot. When he returns to the bedroom, he walks straight to the bathroom where Byakuya has knelt beside the tub, Ulquiorra safely deposited in the hot water. Steam curls off of the top of it and the only sounds in the room are Ulquiorra’s soft, slowed breathing and the soft whispers of Byakuya’s voice.

The two of them are beautiful together, Ulquiorra’s face lightly flushed as he leans toward Byakuya’s words, long lashes shadowing his delicate cheekbones.

“Thank you, Grimmjow.” Byakuya stands to take what he’s brought, then points one slender finger toward the toilet. “Sit on the lid while I take care of him.”

Obediently, Grimmjow sits. He watches as Byakuya peels one of the bananas and breaks it into small pieces, feeding them to Ulquiorra with his fingers, whispering soft praise when Ulquiorra eats what he’s given without issue. Once the bananas are gone and the juice has been drank, when Ulquiorra settles back into the water with a content sigh that seems to echo through his entire body, Byakuya stands, pats him once on the head, and walks up to Grimmjow.

“Thank you for your assistance, kitten. It was very much valued.” Byakuya skims a thumb over his lower lip before his fingers slip lower, tilting Grimmjow’s head back as he grips him by the chin. “Ulquiorra needed to be taken care of, and you were a great help in that.”

“You’re welcome, Sir.” The word slips so easily from his lips, the title that Byakuya wears.

Byakuya hums in recognition and his fingers press almost bruisingly into Grimmjow’s jaw, his other hand skimming lower, to the top of Grimmjow’s shirt. “Take this off. And tell me about your day at work. What’s it like being a personal trainer?”

The shirt comes off and Grimmjow turns to toss it in the laundry basket before looking back up at Byakuya, unashamed to be shirtless in front of him. He’s all hard muscle, after all. “It was a great day, honestly. I did early morning and afternoon schedules today so I could free up the evening to spend at home. Since I can do the schedules as I want, it’s pretty relaxing.”

“That’s excellent. Such a smart boy.” Byakuya’s fingers run through his hair and Grimmjow leans into the touch. “Just like a cat, indeed. What were your clients like today?”

“Good. I train a lot of women because they’re comfortable with me. Since I’ve got Ulquiorra waiting for me at home, they don’t see me as much of a threat as I would be if I were single.” Which is fair and makes plenty of sense because Grimmjow has met some men that would abuse the position to grope women if they had a chance. Having a boyfriend doesn’t necessarily mean a person is not going to be a fucking jerk, but he keeps his hands to himself. He’s not some pervert. “Isane’s always fun to talk to and Hiyori kicks so much ass that sometimes I’m worried that one of these days, I’m gonna have trouble keeping up with her.”

Byakuya’s smile softens further and Grimmjow feels warm all the way through at the attention. Just the same, he can’t avoid casting a glance toward the tub, satisfied to see Ulquiorra’s eyes are closed, his breathing even and deep, his lips in the faintest little smile.

_ He’s happy, _ and Grimmjow wants to fall to his knees in thanks at the sight.

“That’s lovely to hear. I’m glad you had a good day. Work is finally less stressful for me, as well. Though poor Sosuke is still busy.” Byakuya leans down, finally, and kisses him.

When Grimmjow had seen Byakuya and Aizen together for the first time, he’d almost gone weak in the knees at the thought of the two of them together and how sexy that would have been to watch. Maybe he had been just a little transfixed at the sight of Byakuya’s mouth, full soft lips that would have felt like heaven against his own. And now that he can experience it firsthand, he feels heat spike in his belly, reminding him of just how hard he is.

“Sosuke hogs all the pretty boys when it comes right down to it.” Byakuya’s hands move to Grimmjow’s jeans, unfastening them, reaching through the open part at the front of his boxers to pull his cock free. “Oh, the things I could do with this. I’m going to jerk you off now for being so good for me, pretty kitten. And then I’m going to call Sosuke and brag to him about it.”

Byakuya’s hands are just as soft as they look and feel, both of them wrapping around Grimmjow’s cock and stroking him to completion in minutes. It must not be too hard considering he’s already plenty worked up and Byakuya is good at what he does, but he still enjoys it just the same, toes curling in his socks and head thrown back, panting harshly at the pleasure burning white hot through his veins at the touch of a new man’s hands on his body.

“Lovely.” Byakuya kisses him once more, washes his hands at the sink. “Don’t disturb Ulquiorra, though, I want him to have as much time as he needs in the tub.”

“I showered at the gym before I came home since it’s free so all I gotta do is change, anyway, Sir.” Grimmjow stands, kicks his jeans and boxers off, and tosses them with his socks into the laundry basket. He casts one last glance at Ulquiorra, who looks like he might have fallen asleep in the water, and goes back to the bedroom to get dressed.

He can hear the depth of Byakuya’s voice as he changes into something more comfortable— he is, in fact, on the phone with Aizen just like he said he was going to be, going over the events of the afternoon in a voice that suggested he knew it was driving Aizen crazy to only hear about it and not participate in it. And the sound of Aizen’s voice on the other line stills Grimmjow and reminds him, once more, of what he’d been thinking about in the bar.

Aizen let Renji touch him in a way he expressly told Grimmjow and Ulquiorra not to. The gnawing uncertainty returns to his gut, chewing up his insides with a fierce determination.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he even met Aizen so it’s hard to remember each and every single conversation they had with him, but Grimmjow has been struggling to remember if he might have said something offensive. If they had done anything to make Aizen withdraw, put distance between them that might suggest why he doesn’t want them to touch him. It just feels cruel, not being able to return the pleasure he’s given them. Especially when it’s been so much.

_ Get your head out of your ass, _ he tells himself.  _ He’s gotta do what’s right for him. _

“Grimmjow?” Byakuya leans out of the bathroom, holding his phone to one ear. “Would you be against me cooking dinner for the two of you? As a thank you of sorts?”

The question has Grimmjow blinking at him. “Shouldn’t we be thanking you for that?”

“No?” Byakuya scrunches up his nose at him and Grimmjow laughs a little, ducking his head at the disbelief in Byakuya’s expression. “Did you hear what he— Yes, he thanks they should  _ thank _ me, I’ve never— I’ll keep that in mind. Yes, darling, I love you, too.” Byakuya ends the call and pockets his phone. “So is that a yes on dinner or did you want to argue about it?”

His phrasing makes Grimmjow laugh and the tension in his gut eases somewhat. “I mean, I’m not against it but it doesn’t feel like a guest should be cooking for us.”

“A guest! I swear.” Byakuya pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs a sigh. “I wasn’t a guest when I had my hands on your cock, I suppose? Just hush and let me spoil you.”

Grimmjow leaves him to his devices and heads downstairs, frowning at the sight of an open bottle of beer half-drunk just sitting on the counter and wonders why Ulquiorra would have been drinking today.  _ Art block, maybe, _ he thinks, pouring the contents out and tossing the bottle in the recycling bin. Ulquiorra doesn’t drink all that often and he hadn’t drank but a little, so it wasn’t that big of a deal and not something to over worry about too much.

He gets himself some beer and drops down on the couch, intent on making his way through at least some of the build-up on Netflix. He’s two episodes in to a show when Byakuya comes downstairs, sets Ulquiorra on the couch next to him— freshly washed, bleary-eyed just a little, hair neatly combed— and bundles him up in the blanket from the back of the couch.

“Now just sit here and relax.” Byakuya kisses him on the lips and gives Grimmjow a meaningful look that has him shifting, an arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders, pulling him into his side.

Once Byakuya just lets himself into the kitchen, Grimmjow turns to look down at Ulquiorra, brushing a stray black strand of hair from his forehead. “Hey, baby. How do you feel?”

“Very good. Tired. Wrung out, I suppose, is the proper way of phrasing it. But good just the same. I think I needed that.” Ulquiorra blinks a few times before looking up at him, an uncertain expression on his face. “That was fine, wasn’t it? I know the plan was to date Sosuke, but—”

“Don’t even worry about it.” Grimmjow kisses him on the forehead, the nose, the mouth. The little tickling kisses make Ulquiorra giggle and Grimmjow could listen to that sound all day, could fall asleep to the sweet lullaby of Ulquiorra’s laughter. “I’m not about to complain. That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever walked in on in my life, and hey, he got me off, too.”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully, blinking up at him. “I don’t think I anticipated this after the date the five of us had together. He said we had permission to date Sosuke. That was all.”

“I guess we were just lucky to land three hot guys instead of just the one.” And Grimmjow doesn’t even want to think about how that happened because it’s making his head spin just a little to consider how much they really did luck out in this situation, after all.

“He asked me to go eat lunch with him and then we talked a bit, and he wanted to bring me home and have sex.” Ulquiorra’s eyes flutter a little and Grimmjow smiles, pressing their faces together. It makes his chest feel strangely tight and warm to see Ulquiorra like this, so relaxed. “I was… Having a moment over all of this. I was afraid something might go wrong.”

_ You sat here all alone and talked yourself into the worst possible outcome. _ “It’s okay. There’s bound to be some rough patches along the way, but we’ll figure it out together. We’re all here for you, Ulquiorra, there’s nothing to be afraid of. You aren’t doing this on your own.”

“I think the goal of that scene was to get me out of my own head. In any case, it worked. I feel better about this now than I did before.” Ulquiorra smiles, and Grimmjow kisses it. He has to taste the flavor of Ulquiorra’s joy on his tongue, chuckles at the sweetness of banana and the tartness of the juice still available on his tongue.

They kiss lazily for a few minutes and Grimmjow shifts, presses a leg against the back of the couch, spreads his legs wide so he can drag Ulquiorra up against his chest still burritoed in the blanket. He forgets about the show he’s watching as he kisses Ulquiorra, their lips moving together seamlessly and softly, just aimless making out that relaxes his muscles in a way no cool down exercises really can. Ulquiorra frees a hand from the blanket to curl in Grimmjow’s hair, the pads of his fingers massaging Grimmjow’s scalp and drawing a purr from his lips.

He doesn’t even realize they’re being watched until Byakuya speaks. “Now this is beautiful.”

“You’re spying, Byakuya.” Ulquiorra frowns at him over Grimmjow’s shoulder and Grimmjow laughs, rubs his cheek over Ulquiorra’s glossy dark hair. “That is very rude of you.”

Byakuya holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You caught me. How does stir fry sound? You have a lot of fresh vegetables and I’m in the mood to cook absolutely all of them.”

“Stir fry sounds good. We have beef and chicken in the fridge, you can choose whatever you want to add with them.” Grimmjow smiles softly when Ulquiorra cuddles down against his chest, fingers still tangled up in his hair. “But Quiorra likes chicken the most.”

“Chicken it is,” Byakuya says, and disappears back into the kitchen.

“You like beef more,” Ulquiorra tells him, and Grimmjow nods because he does. “Why did you tell him that my favorite was chicken? You’re both spoiling me far too much.”

“Sue me for wanting to make you happy,” Grimmjow says, kissing the top of his head.

Ulquiorra yawns and turns his attention to the television, scrunching up his nose. “God, what the hell are you watching? One of those action movies?”

“It’s a crime show and I think I’ve missed like this whole episode.” Grimmjow shuts the show down— it wasn’t even that interesting to begin with— and pulls up one of Ulquiorra’s instead, running soothing fingers down his back over the blanket. “Here. You’ll like this better.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra’s voice is small, and Grimmjow kisses the top of his head.

The thing about having someone else in the apartment cooking for them is that Grimmjow can hear Byakuya every so often, can pick up the sound of Byakuya humming to himself, the sound of cutlery and pots and pans being moved around, the hiss of oil. When he thought of how much money Aizen and Byakuya had to have between the two of them, he imagined them with a private chef or something, or at least a housekeeper. But from the sounds of it, Byakuya knows his way around the kitchen and it makes him feel absurdly fond, imagining them cooking for each other. He’s way in over his head and he knows it.

When the food starts cooking, Grimmjow’s mouth waters. The apartment is a good size but not too big and the scent of roasting vegetables and searing meat reaches him faster than it has any right to. Ulquiorra shifts against him, lifting his head a little to inhale, and makes a small surprised sound at just how good all of it smells. Grimmjow has to agree.

And this is definitely getting spoiled, no two ways about that.

Byakuya walks into the room once more just as the second episodes ends, drying his hands on a dish towel. “Dinner is served,” he singsongs. “You have a lovely kitchen.”

“Well, if your food tastes half as good as it smells, you can just fucking move in,” Grimmjow says, helping Ulquiorra unpeel himself from the blanket so they can eat.

“I’ll have to have you over when the weather's nice and we decide to barbecue. Sosuke won’t let me touch the grill, though.” Byakuya frowns and then smiles, pulling them both forward, one of them under each arm. “Thank you for having me. This is such a treat for me.”

Grimmjow doesn’t know what he means by that, but Ulquiorra saves both of them. “We’re happy to have you. Now let’s go eat. I’m interested to see how your food tastes.”

“I like cooking. Sosuke and I took classes together when we were still dating and it was about the best and worst thing we ever did.” Byakuya pulls a face and before Grimmjow can ask, he iterates. “You can get a whipped cream into a lot of interesting places. So! Dinner.”

The table is immaculate, the contents cleaned off and neatly set aside on the bar to make room for their dinner. The food looks amazing; Grimmjow almost groans just at the sight of it, the perfectly cooked vegetables, the fluffy white rice, the heavenly scent wafting up to his nose and making him aware that he definitely needs to learn to cook like this. Byakuya primly pulls out their chairs for them before sitting down in his own, and he’s  _ preening _ at the way they’re staring at his food, a delighted little smile on his lips as he looks up at them.

As it turns out, his food could put what Aizen had bought them at Hueco Mundo to shame.

“Holy fucking shit.” Grimmjow swallows down a bite of food after letting it settle on his tongue, looking at Byakuya with renewed interest all over again. “Please tell me you’re kidding. There’s no way you can be everything that you already are  _ and _ a good cook.”

Byakuya smiles politely at him. “Afraid so, Grimmjow. Is it that good?”

“This is professional level, surely,” Ulquiorra says, then promptly takes a bite of chicken.

“God, no, nothing like that. Look, professional food… Is pretty but it’s also very awful most of the time and I’m just not interested in that.” Byakuya serves himself, and Grimmjow watches every graceful movement of his hands. “This is just comfort food with extra spice and seasoning. It’s so much better than trying to elevate fucking macaroni and cheese because it’s not good enough for your delicate palate or some such nonsense.”

Grimmjow snorts and almost chokes on a mouthful of rice, swallowing it down with a gulp of beer. “You’re amazing. I totally see why Sosuke married you now.”

Byakuya beams at him. “Thank you, darling. I do pretty well for myself, all things considered.”

They talk more about work over dinner, with Byakuya admitting he’d just called the rest of the day off to be with Ulquiorra and Grimmjow is just a teensy bit jealous that he’d gotten the chance seeing as he would have done the same thing if he could. Ulquiorra talks about art block, mentions a few projects he’s been working on and looks so totally happy and relaxed that Grimmjow thinks he could die happy at the sight of this. Not that Ulquiorra is a miserable person, but he’s so stoic and hard to read even eat the best of times.

It was like Byakuya had undone all of that with just his hands, and that turns Grimmjow on a bit.

When dinner is over, the dishes loaded into the dishwasher, and the kitchen wiped clean, Byakuya sighs, arms folded over his chest. “I suppose I should go home now.”

“You don’t have to.” Ulquiorra surprises them both when he says it, Byakuya staring at him for a long moment until Ulquiorra flushes and fidgets. It’s surprisingly sweet. “I mean, if you wanted to stay the night, I don’t think either of us would mind. Would you mind, Grimmjow?”

_ Do you even have to ask me that question? _ “Quiorra’s right. I wouldn’t mind you staying over.”

“It feels naughty when I know Sosuke still hasn’t had the chance to do so.” Byakuya rubs a hand over his jaw but finally nods, his posture relaxing as he retrieves his phone once more. “His loss, not mine. I’ll stay the night with you two. Because I  _ want _ to.”

He steps into the other room to tell Aizen, more than likely, and Ulquiorra smiles serenely, holding his hand out to Grimmjow. The three of them end up on the couch, Ulquiorra snuggled down between Grimmjow and Byakuya while he finishes this season of his show, his head resting in Byakuya’s lap so long white fingers can card through the soft dark strands. Grimmjow is content to have his hands on Ulquiorra’s legs, massaging the tension out of them until he must feel so totally boneless from pleasure and attention. He so deserves it.

Just because they’d walked into all of this because Grimmjow wanted to try it doesn’t mean he’s not ready to pay Ulquiorra back in spades for everything he’s done.

Byakuya sends him a look over Ulquiorra’s body and Grimmjow smiles back at him, enjoying the way Byakuya’s face softens at the expression. He’s happy with this, with the two of them, with the warmth and the companionship. He’s sated, full of good food, a little drowsy from a long day at work, but ultimately satisfied because this is just the perfect way to end it.

He’s so beyond lucky to have gotten here. He can’t wait to see what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some nice sex and some domestic fluff for this surprising trio! we'll be back in las noches in the next chapter~


	15. and i owe you some gratitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** mayuri is discussed more in this chapter, abuse is discussed, police brutality and general anti-lgbt sentiments are mentioned and discussed as well. it's a bit heavy in the beginning. aizen said fuck blue lives.
> 
>  **sexual content:** mostly platonic bdsm stuff like cuddling with d/s elements and some blanket discussion of suspension and collaring

When it came to his day job, Aizen could not have chosen a better word to explain how he felt in his office beyond _stressed_ at having to handle all of the bands under the label, covering for their mistakes. Everything from a casual faux pas to an out and out horrendous comment fell into his lap to handle, and after putting out one fire, there were usually about three or four more he had to handle in order to keep everything functioning on an acceptable level.

His night job, however, was usually the exact opposite. Tonight was a little different; he sat with Byakuya and Halibel in the office they shared, going over the forms they needed to fill out to ensure Mayuri could not walk into their building once more. Firing employees meant paperwork, and as long as he did not try to come back, there was little they could do other than finish up the paperwork and hope nothing escalated. Aizen asked Grimmjow if he wanted to press charges and the man clammed up instantly, asking if it was necessary, if he had to talk to the police, if it was even worth it when men like Mayuri walked for far more serious crimes all the time.

There were plenty of factors to consider, not the least of them the fact Grimmjow consented to be chained up. Aizen knew better than to expect a jury of people who would probably be in their forties and older to look kindly upon that or to have any sympathy for him. It helped, at least, that Mayuri had not cropped up at any of the other clubs in the city that Aizen knew of. The phone number he called— from Ulquiorra’s cell phone, just to see if Mayuri would answer— appeared to be out of service. It seemed almost too good to be true.

“He hasn’t been anywhere since Yammy threw him out,” Byakuya muses, signing off on the form in front of him and passing it to Aizen with a sigh. “I know I should be grateful, but part of me is worried we’re going to end up culpable for a murder or something.”

Halibel leans back in her chair, looking thoughtful as she twirls a strand of long blond hair between her fingers. “I don’t know,” she finally says. “Do creeps like this normally vanish into thin air? It would make sense if he booked it to avoid getting into trouble.”

“I would only hope it means he isn’t going to hurt anyone else. Grimmjow doesn’t want to talk to the police, and I can’t say I blame him,” Aizen murmurs softly.

“I knew a woman at my first club who was raped by her Dominant and the jury wouldn’t convict him because they couldn’t wrap their minds around the idea you could still say no when you were tied up and gagged.” Halibel is quiet for a long moment and Aizen nods in sympathy; everyone knew someone who had been abused by their Dom, someone who was not taken seriously by the people meant to protect them. “And he’s a man, and you know as well as I do that even if another man did it, there are going to be people who doubt.”

Byakuya wrinkles his nose and nods, shutting his laptop and running his hands through his hair as the stares down at the battered silver lid. “That’s true. Even with plenty of information out there to suggest such a thing is not true, enough people still believe that men are not capable of saying no because all men obviously want to have sex no matter what.”

“The most we can do is put out the word to other club owners that Mayuri is bad news and hope we can get the message out before he gets another job.” Aizen doesn’t like the sheer amount of uncertainty in that, but short of hunting the man down himself, there is nothing they can do.

Before they sat down to fill out this paperwork, they had gone through the lengthy process of sitting down with every club submissive and switch to ask them if they had interacted with Mayuri and if he had been abusive toward any of them. Shinji said he was an asshole and they bickered, but he otherwise seemed to be on his best behavior. The Dominants were less forgiving, and Rangiku swore up and down he gave her a bad vibe from the day he was hired.

Byakuya has finished talking to guests over the phone today, but other than a few men and women who said Mayuri creeped them out, none of them had anything of note to report. It seemed like either everyone was afraid to speak up— which is not wholly surprising— or Mayuri had slipped only when it came to Grimmjow.

That should have been a relief, to only have one victim. It only pissed Aizen off more, though. It seems so unfair the sweet man had been subjected to that.

“Unless he’s gone to the trouble of getting a normal job or something, we’ll be able to keep as many people safe as possible by telling the others at least.” Halibel picks up her cell phone and sets the list of numbers she amassed in preparation for this evening on top of the laptop. “Everyone start dialing. Let’s get this done as quickly as possible.”

“I wish the law would take us all a little more seriously when we have crimes to report,” Byakuya muses, leaning closer to the paper, phone in hand. “We shouldn’t have to do this.”

Aizen snorts. “Some of them still think every scene is just an excuse to be abusive.”

“Bullshit. Why would we go through the trouble of having boundaries and safewords if it was just about hurting each other?” Halibel heaves a sigh; Aizen can feel it reverberate through his core.

“Oh yes, how tragic. Renji only grins like an idiot for days if I so much as _spank_ him but he’s definitely being abused.” Byakuya’s voice is acidic and Aizen pats his knee, knowing all too well how his husband feels. They _all_ feel it. “Anyway, let’s ensure Mayuri doesn’t have a job.”

Halibel pauses, her eyes meeting Aizen’s. “How has Grimmjow been doing after that?”

“He was initially reserved during his first scene but he came out of his shell pretty quickly. I think the effort we’ve all gone to in order to make him feel in control and safe with us has definitely helped.” His eyes slide toward Byakuya, who cocks his head. “You stayed the night. How was he doing? You said he walked in on you doing a scene with Ulquiorra.”

Byakuya nods slowly. “He did. His reaction was not abnormal for such a thing. He assisted me and I rewarded him, and he was very cuddly and affectionate all night long.” Something softens Byakuya’s features and he ducks his head a little, giving it a shake. “He likes to be the little spoon in bed. I thought I was going to _die_ when he said that.”

“If he feels like he needs to talk to someone, I’ll ensure that he does,” Aizen says firmly. “I think the idea of talking to the police frightened him quite a bit, though.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. LGBT people and the police don’t exactly have the friendliest history going back,” Halibel murmurs, and Aizen hums in agreement.

He still remembers the first time he and Byakuya had been at a protest together, the officer who took a hard swing at him and damn near broke his nose because he refused to let Byakuya get pushed around. He remembers the taste of blood and the fear and the thought that there was no way they could ever back down and let scum like this get away with such assault.

It only fueled him to fight that much harder, but he knows that there are other people in their community who grew skittish and afraid, and it made perfect sense to him. He could understand that better than most, having seen his friends victimized by the police. Surviving is important.

“If he decides to change his mind, we’ll support him. Until then, we’ll let him be on the matter and just do what we can.” Byakuya hits Call on his phone and Aizen leans forward to start on the list of numbers, not looking forward to this series of calls at all.

No one who answers their calls has ever heard of Kurotsuchi Mayuri, which just makes Aizen wonder where he might have vanished off to, but he’s reassured that no one else is at risk of being harmed. Most of the owners who speak to them ask for a description as well as basic information so they can keep their eyes out for him, but with as tall and odd-looking as he is, he would be easy to spot even in a crowd. It seems like no one has seen him.

When Aizen finishes with his last number, he hangs up his phone and exits the office so he can find where Grimmjow and Ulquiorra have slipped off to this evening. He picked them up from their apartment earlier tonight; Grimmjow wanted to come back to Las Noches and experience it again after the scenes with both Aizen and Byakuya, emboldened by the way they handled personal safety and consent. He finds them with Gin, because of course he does.

“Hi, Sosuke.” Gin waggles his fingers in greeting from where his head is resting in Rangiku’s lap, her fingers combing his hair back out of his face. “I’ve been telling your lovely little subs all of the nasty things you’ve been doing to me over the years. It’s a fascinating conversation.”

Aizen winces at his wording. “You’re lying.”

“He isn’t, unfortunately,” Rangiku says with a smirk. “He’s got quite a captive audience.”

“Suspension, huh? That seems like… Quite a thing to try.” Grimmjow looks vaguely shocked, baby blues wide as he leans back and looks up at Aizen.

Of course. Of course Gin had to tell them about that. “It was just twice. Gin isn’t very good at handling being bound and suspended so it’s not like we can make a habit out of it. Of course, if it’s something either of you want to try, I am always open to showing you how it works.”

“Maybe at a later date in time,” Ulquiorra says, but not as dismissively as Aizen would have expected from him. “It sounds interesting. I might be up for trying it at least once.”

 _Brave sub._ “It can be intense but of course I’ll be in the room with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about the strain growing to be too much for you to handle with no way out. I can let you down at a moment’s notice. We can explore that when you’re comfortable with it.”

“He’s a sweet talker, isn’t he?” Gin asks, stretching out a hand to lazily bat at Ulquiorra’s hair. “It’s why my— _our_ ,” he corrects himself as soon as Rangiku frowns down at him, “our Izuru likes him so much. Makes for some smooth and easy listening while you’re getting worked over.”

“Kira prefers an audio track in my experience,” Aizen says primly before taking a seat on the couch next to Rangiku, comfortable here and within himself.

As soon as he settles, Grimmjow crawls into the space between his spread legs, insinuating himself there with an ease and comfort that Aizen approves of, stretching out a hand to curl his fingers in Grimmjow’s soft hair. The touch receives a content sigh and Grimmjow’s long eyelashes flutter as he rests his cheek against Aizen’s thigh, rubbing his skin against the soft leather. It’s a stark difference to the last time he’d been here and Aizen is glad for that, glad that Las Noches can still be a place where he finds a measure of comfort.

“When are we gonna play together?” Gin asks, nudging Aizen with his foot. “You told Izuru we would but that was ages ago. ‘Course, you been busy what with two cute subs to care for and I _guess_ lots of work drama. You’re always too busy, ain’t ya, Sosuke?”

Aizen rolls his eyes, used to Gin’s pouty and attention seeking behavior, patting Gin gently on the ankle. “Soon, I promise. It’s already been a long night. Let’s not push it. Where is Kira?”

“He’s with Kensei and Hisagi,” Rangiku answers, and Aizen hums in acknowledgement. “Hisagi’s sweet on him and I don’t mind him playing around when I know he’s going to come home at the end of the day and fall asleep between us.”

“I can understand the sentiment.” After all, Aizen and Byakuya had made a deal around that very idea when they first stepped into a club together and realized they had similar tastes.

Ulquiorra curls a knee against his chest, resting his chin on top of it. “Sir, if I may?”

“Yes, sub?” Aizen is impressed at just how fast Ulquiorra picks up proper behavior.

“How were the two of you able to handle such a thing when you were married? It seems like it would be a difficult topic to approach.” The tone of Ulquiorra’s voice suggests something that Aizen does not like and he purses his lips at the sound of it but says nothing. “Like, when we first met, Byakuya had Renji, but you were not attached to anyone.”

“Are you trying to ask me if I was jealous?” Aizen asks, and Ulquiorra ducks his head just a little.

The topic is a familiar one because Aizen has been fielding such questions since he and Byakuya decided on this in the first place, but he thought Ulquiorra would have figured it out on his own when he sees it in action. “Renji was never a threat to my marriage. As long as both of us were happy, there was no jealousy involved. Just because I did not have a labelled partner did not mean I was just waiting around for Byakuya to have time.”

“They haven’t met Shinji yet,” Gin muses, and Aizen nods because they haven’t.

Grimmjow picks his head up off of Aizen’s thigh. “Shinji?”

“When I was first training as a Dominant, Hirako Shinji was the submissive in charge of putting me through my paces and ensuring I did what I was supposed to do.” And Shinji would have kicked his ass the moment he violated any major rules; he’d given Aizen a pretty thorough tongue lashing over minor mistakes. “I’ve spent quite a lot of time with him over the years.”

“We all had bets going about if you’d collar him for good but then it never happened.” Gin pouts; Aizen can only imagine how much money he lost over the years.

“Not for lack of trying, but Shinji is a free spirit and desires to be tied down to no Dom.” Maybe, _maybe_ it was a shot to Aizen’s ego, having to handle that. “But we’re still good with each other.”

“Is he here tonight.” Ulquiorra turns around, head swivelling around the room.

Aizen knows he is; he’d checked the guestbook on his way in to make sure he knew was in the dungeon and spots Shinji across the room, sitting cross-legged in front of a pair of men, though he turns as if he can sense Aizen’s eyes on him. The moment their gazes connect, he turns back around, says _something_ to the men in his company, and then pushes himself to his feet so he can come to Aizen. Though, Aizen almost wishes he hadn’t. If Ulquiorra is asking about jealousy at a time like this, surely Shinji’s presence could risk inflaming that.

He stops a few feet away and bows low at the waist, always polite and always proper on the dungeon floor. “Aizen-sama, Matsumoto-sama. May I join you this evening?”

Aizen can feel Grimmjow shift against his leg, can see the way Ulquiorra’s shoulders twitch as they register the sound of Shinji’s voice, soft and silky smooth. As much as he doesn’t want to alienate either of them tonight, he can’t very well be rude to Shinji, either. “Of course, sub.”

At the very least, Shinji knows better than to press his luck about attention. He kneels on the ground, thighs spread, hands resting on top of them as he flashes Aizen a small smile. Demure where people can see, so well-behaved. “Thank you, Sir.”

“We were just talking about you, Shin.” Gin grins, wiggling his fingers in Shinji’s direction. “Having a casual chat ‘bout how you won’t let no one put a collar on you.”

The slightest flash of a displeased frown is there and gone before Shinji laughs softly and shakes his head. “Sir would do well to remember that I said long ago I was not interested in belonging to any one Dominant. I like being able to work in the general club.”

“I don’t think I understand the difference,” Grimmjow says. “Like… What do you mean?”

Shinji’s eyes meet Aizen’s once more, and Aizen nods. “You may speak, sub.”

“Being collared is a sign that you belong to a Dominant, or sometimes more than one.” Shinji’s eyes flicker toward Gin and Rangiku, and Aizen understands the meaning well; Kira’s collar had come from both of them, a sign of their devotion and affection. “I have no desire to be attached to anyone, thus I can do what I please. You have to ask permission of your Dominant to participate in scenes with other people, though I suppose that’s not an obstacle for some.”

“Like Izuru has to ask us when he wants to spend time with Hisagi and Kensei,” Gin says.

Shinji’s smile does not quite reach his eyes. “Sir is correct. Such an arrangement is not for me.”

“So if I wanted to, I could just… Go over to one of those guys you were talking to and offer myself up whether or not Sosuke wants it or not,” Grimmjow says matter-of-factly.

“Yes, though I would not necessarily do such a thing in your position. They are new here and not likely to be skilled enough to do much in the way of a true scene.” Shinji shifts on his knees and Aizen wonders if Shinji intended on showing them the ropes before he came to kneel here at Aizen’s feet. “Kira cannot do such a thing. He must ask permission first.”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully, thumb sliding across his lower lip. “And you would allow yourself to be collared for what purpose? Just as a symbol of the relationship, or?”

“It depends on the purpose of the collar, but the one I am primarily speaking of is the, ah, official symbol of the relationship between submissive and Dominant.” Shinji’s fingers twitch and Aizen wonders if this conversation is uncomfortable for him, watching the rise and fall of his chest with each breath carefully. “And I am in no such committed relationship. My body is not off limits. I can do as I please, when I please. Typically speaking, a submissive wearing such a collar would defer certain decisions to the Dominant in the relationship.”

“That’s… Intense.” Grimmjow presses his lips together into a thin line.

Aizen pets him gently on top of the head to soothe him before he can worry himself about this subject too much. “Byakuya collared Renji, so it’s not necessarily as intense as you’re telling yourself it is. It just means no one else can approach him without Byakuya’s permission.”

“In a way, it’s a protection,” Ulquiorra muses, and Aizen nods in assent.

Then he stretches a hand out to Shinji, whose shoulders sag in relief. “Come here, sub.”

Shinji stands and takes Aizen’s hand in both of his, and Aizen pulls Shinji down on his lap given Gin has taken up a good portion of the middle of the couch. Tonight Shinji is dressed to impress, black lace briefs that barely cover anything, low on his hips and paired with a black leather harness Aizen knows all too well from how many times he’s had his fingers hooked through it, leading Shinji around by its straps. He’s also a little cold, so Aizen pulls him in close.

“Thank you for being informative and thoughtful in your responses,” Aizen murmurs against his hair, voice pitched low because the words are for no one but Shinji. The way Shinji sighs softly and melts into him makes him smile against the soft golden locks. “Sit with me just a while, sub. I’ll need to reward you suitably for the advice you gave me a while ago.”

“I would be happy to sit with you, Sir,” Shinji murmurs, snuggling up to his chest.

Aizen’s free hand remains curled in Grimmjow’s hair, fingers sifting through the soft locks while he keeps his other arm locked around Shinji’s waist. This is powerful, having these beautiful men at his every whim, trusting him with their bodies and their pleasure. And to his relief, Grimmjow seems perfectly content to lean against his leg, not pouting even though Shinji is wrapped around Aizen comfortably, head resting on his shoulder.

He wonders if Shinji would be up for letting Grimmjow and Ulquiorra watch the reward.

“Ah, but they make such a pretty picture,” Gin croons, and Aizen shoots him a look that he, of course, ignores. “Shinji, you shoulda taken his collar so I could’ve won that bet.”

“Wait.” Ulquiorra sits up a little straighter and Aizen wonders if they would be up for watching a _punishment,_ too. Gin sounds in need of a proper spanking these days. “You tried to—”

Rangiku swats Gin on the chest when he wheezes laughter. “Stop making trouble, Gin!”

“I did,” Aizen says. He has no reason to keep secrets, rubbing his hand up and down Shinji’s side to keep him calm because the entire topic of collaring can be a bit sensitive for him. To a lot of people, a sub accepting a collar is the natural order of things, and Shinji defies that order by never accepting anyone’s advances in a meaningful way. “And he turned me down.”

Silence hangs between them for a long, tense moment before Shinji laughs, wrapping his arms around Aizen’s shoulders. “That don’t mean I don’t love you, though, Sir.”

“I know.” Aizen tilts his head, presses a kiss to the top of Shinji’s head, drinking in his little sigh of contentment, the pleasure that seems to soak through his entire body. “And I love you, too.”

“Then I don’t understand. If the two of you love each other, why did you not want to accept the collar?” Ulquiorra looks hopelessly lost and Aizen doesn’t blame him because this is quite the crash course to be going through, especially out of nowhere like this.

Shinji noses Aizen’s cheek, and Aizen strokes his hair. “You may be honest with him, sub.”

“Because I don’t want to be tied to anyone. Ain’t about love for me. The symbolism is what I don’t want any part of. Sir and I, we get along fine. He takes care of me ‘cause he learned how to be a Dom by learning my needs and how to meet them.” Shinji wriggles just a little in Aizen’s lap, probably at the memories or the thought of just how many of his needs Aizen has been able to meet over the years, and happily. “But that’s enough for me. Always has been.”

The puzzled expression on Ulquiorra’s face only deepens and Aizen wonders what he must be trying to figure out. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m making the effort to understand. So are the two of you dating, or are you just… For lack of better terminology, sex partners?”

“We’re very good friends, Ulquiorra,” Aizen says. He smoothes his hand up and down Shinji’s back, then hooks his fingers beneath the harness, giving it a light tug. “And we care very much for each other, of course, as friends do. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

Shinji nods, seemingly satisfied with that explanation. “Sir takes care of me, looks after me, respects me, and gives me what I need. In turn, I have never been afraid to submit to him or his desires. I don’t need much more than that to keep me coming back for more.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad setup,” Grimmjow says, and Aizen nods, patting him on the top of the head. “Kind of was what we were looking for before things kinda got different.”

“Ain’t that just the way it goes? Sweet little Izuru wasn’t expecting to wander into our arms when he came here looking for a good time, but things change sometimes.” Gin smiles proudly and Aizen can only imagine just how happy he is that things did, in fact, change for him. Though Gin and Rangiku seemed attached at the hip, completing each other in a way no one and nothing else ever seemed to, they had made room for Kira in their hearts just the same. A two-person puzzle that grew to accommodate three like Kira had always been meant to fit with them.

“Not always, Sir,” Shinji says. “Some of us are content to remain right where we are.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Aizen tells him, and Shinji beams up at him.

His own personal feelings about love and relationships do not matter in this sense; he’s tired of the encroaching narrative that Shinji should find someone, or should settle down, or will one day. It’s just too much similar to what he heard growing up; if Shinji is happy the way he is, then Shinji is happy the way he is. If he wants to remain a free spirit and attach himself to no one and nothing, that is his right. It’s his body. And Aizen knows Gin means well, of course he does, but well… It’s a Dom’s job to look after a sub, after all.

Shinji presses his face against the side of Aizen’s neck, breathing soft and warm along his bare skin. “What about that reward, Sir? When would you like to give it to me?”

“Whenever you would be happy to receive it.” Aizen’s fingers trace a pathway down Shinji’s spine to the top of the lace at his waist, imagining it strained tight against Shinji’s cock, growing damp the more Aizen just barely touches him. “Would you like it now, sub?”

“I can be very patient if you want me to be, Sir.” The proper response, always, and one that sends a hot curl of desire drawing tight in Aizen’s gut.

There is little he wants to do right now more than he wants to take Shinji back to his room and reward him properly. Instead, he leans further in, his lips brushing against Shinji’s ear, ensuring only the two of them can hear this. “Would you mind if we had a bit of an audience?”

“Not at all.” Shinji wriggles a little on his lap. “You know I like being watched.”

He does know that; Shinji has been his partner onstage enough times and will be again very shortly. “Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, would you like to see what a scene between an experienced Dominant and an experience submissive is like? It might prove interesting for you.”

“Maybe,” Grimmjow muses, scrubbing his cheek against Aizen’s thigh. “But maybe not. I might go find Byakuya and see what he’s up to, actually. If that’s all right with you?”

“I don’t have you collared, kitten. You don’t technically have to ask me for permission if you don’t want to.” Aizen runs his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair one last time before patting him on the cheek. “Go ahead, though. I’m sure he’ll have left the office by this point.”

Grimmjow makes an excited little noise and then glances at Ulquiorra, arching his eyebrows at him. “You gonna come with me, or you gonna go watch Aizen instead?”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully, stretching his legs out in front of himself and exhaling slowly. “I think I would like to watch, actually. To see what an experienced submissive is like. If we are going to learn the role, then some visual experience might be good.”

In a slow slide of sinew and muscle, Grimmjow crawls across the space between them, giving Ulquiorra a small kiss before he stands and takes off across the room. That settled, Aizen pats Shinji on the hip until he stands, then hooks his fingers beneath the leather strap of the harness that runs down Shinji’s chest, giving it a small tug. The quality of Shinji’s breathing changes almost instantly, eyelids at half-mast as he takes a half-step closer.

“Very good,” Aizen tells him before holding out his free hand to Ulquiorra. “Come with me. We’ll do this in my private room. You are entitled to watch, but not to touch.”

Slender fingers twine with his own and Ulquiorra allows Aizen to pull him up, keeping a tight grip on his hand as he gives a jerky nod. There’s already color dancing around the highest points of his cheekbones, his teeth dragging over his lower lip. “Okay, Sir.”

“Let’s go, then.” Aizen lets Ulquiorra walk at his side, half-dragging Shinji behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of familiar red hair and tilts his head, taking in the sight of Renji loping easily across the floor to where Grimmjow is talking to a guest, looping an arm around his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The sight is a reassuring one and he smiles softly to himself at the thought of the two of them getting along, hoping that it holds out. He would like all of the pieces to come together as neatly as possible, after all.

And if Renji is going to become as important to him as Byakuya already is, then it’s all the more important for everyone involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> debating whether or not to go through with writing another aishin scene or if i just want to imply that it happened, not sure about that yet.
> 
> anyway i said in a comment that grimmjow and renji will talk more after a Big Scene but i actually forgot the conversation i need to write in the next chapter so they're going to talk very shortly.
> 
> Big Discussions of trans stuff and personal boundaries upcoming so be prepared for that. it's all totally in a positive spirit but it's definitely A Thing.


	16. a little personal q and a

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** mentions of mayuri again, general abuse recovery, mentions of intimate partner violence and some more anti-cop stuff and lots of transphobia-related talk
> 
>  **sexual content:** lots of sex talk, flirting, some heavy petting/groping

“Yo, kitty cat.” The familiar voice has Grimmjow glancing over his shoulder just as a tattooed arm is slung around him, pulling him up against a hard body. “You look a little lost.”

“I was going to go find Byakuya and see what he was up to, but this is just as nice.” Grimmjow grins at Renji, fingers curling around the wrist draped against his shoulder.

Renji makes a noise of understanding, and Grimmjow notes the slim black leather collar circling his throat alongside Shinji’s explanations. “Yeah, he’s got a phone call or two to handle. Had some to make at the beginning of the night but he said something about getting calls back and needing to handle it. So why don’t you hang out with me for a while?”

“That’s cool with me. Sosuke just took Shinji and Ulquiorra back to his room for a little show or something, I opted not to go.” _Actually this might be the prime time to have the conversation I’ve been wanting to have._ “Can I talk to you in private, actually? I get it’s a sex club and everything but I feel like there’s just some stuff you don’t talk about where people can hear.”

Renji tilts his head to where a couple of patrons appear to be actually listening in to them, both of them jerking their heads away at the last second. “Yeah. We’ll use Byakuya’s private room.”

The hallway is one Grimmjow remembers with shocking familiarity and it brings back a bad memory, a shudder working down his spine that Renji rubs away with one hand, humming softly as if trying to take his mind off of it. Truth be told, Grimmjow thought he might have been over it when he didn’t clam up with Aizen and Byakuya, but evidently the lasting wounds Mayuri has left on him haven’t quite healed even though the welts did long ago.

Aizen asked him if he wanted to report what happened and he was suitably freaked out at the notion of talking to police as if they’ve ever been any good at handling actual problems. He’d had one run-in with police back in college when an ex tried to beat the shit out of him, and the moment it stopped being just a random assault or fight and was classed as intimate partner violence, no one gave a shit anymore. Maybe he’s just jaded or cynical, but he doesn’t think any jury in the country is going to take him seriously when he admits he let himself get chained to a table by a stranger. He’d rather just heal from it and move on.

Byakuya’s private room is done in pale colors like Aizen’s, hints of pink more than anything else and Grimmjow finds he likes the space, sprawling across the bed and enjoying how soft the bedspread is against his skin. Renji laughs and jumps onto the mattress with him hard enough to make Grimmjow bounce a little, rolling in the sheets like a big cat would.

“I love this bed.” Renji lays on his stomach, arms folded and head resting on top of them. “Lot of good memories here. I was so excited when he brought me here for the first time.”

“Is it, like, a badge of honor to be brought back to one of these rooms?” Grimmjow asks, wondering suddenly why it was Aizen’s first instinct when he came to take care of him.

Renji nods, flashing him a little smile like he knows where Grimmjow’s thoughts are going. “Yeah, but Sosuke’s a big softie and he just wanted to watch over you. Byakuya almost never brings people back here and Hal is really selective in which girls come to join her.”

“Cool deal. Bragging rights.” Grimmjow slides his hands under his head, staring up at the canopy hanging from the bedposts, a soft and gauzy material. “I’m about to ask you a really stupid and maybe borderline offensive and insensitive question. If you want to beat my ass and then throw me out of the building for asking, you totally can. I’ll get it.”

“Uh? Okay?” Renji raises an eyebrow at him, motioning for him to go on.

Slowly, Grimmjow licks his lips and wonders how to go about phrasing this without sounding like a total asshole. He feels like one just for thinking about it, but he has to know. “You and Sosuke made that oral joke at the bar and I’m just wondering like… When was the first time you ever?”

“What? Went down on him?” Renji’s brows furrow at the question and the groove between them deepens when Grimmjow nods to show that’s what he means. “Fuck, uh, I think the first time we ever had sex with each other. Bya was there, but Sosuke was definitely participating.”

Grimmjow presses his lips together at the news. _Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it._ “I see.”

“Unless you’re talking about… Wait.” Renji props his chin up on one hand, dark eyes narrowing slightly as he looks thoughtful. “Are you asking me about sucking his dick, or..?”

“I… No.” Grimmjow tries to ignore the heat burning his cheeks and wonders why the hell this has to feel so embarrassing and be so hard to talk about in the first place. “I mean I guess I never thought about sucking off one of the toys he brings with him but that’s an option, huh.”

Renji stares at him for an overly long minute before giving a short nod. “Yeah. That’s what I did the first time. I mean, I dunno how much he can actually feel from it because he usually keeps underwear on beneath them but I guess it’s more of a visual than anything else.”

“So that’s what you two were joking about.” God, he feels like such a colossal, stupid fuck.

“No.” Renji waits for Grimmjow’s head to snap around and then drops his own back onto his arms, fingers tracing the muscles in Grimmjow’s bicep as he sighs. “I thought this was what you meant but I had to be sure. You’re talking about when I put my mouth on actually him and not just one of the toys. Yeah, that’s what we were joking about. He and Bya have this really awesome chair and a half thing in their house. It’s the perfect set-up for oral sex.”

For a minute or two, Grimmjow’s brain goes static white noise as he thinks about that or at least tries to imagine it. He hasn’t seen Renji in action yet but he gets the impression he’d probably be great at sex, probably must be to have two men as his regular sex partners. He imagines Renji’s mouth between Aizen’s thighs, the same breathy moans and sighs from the night Aizen got off on Ulquiorra, Renji’s mouth coming away slick and he really, _really_ needs to get a hobby outside of work and kinky sex so he stops thinking about things so hard.

“I’m wondering if I did something to like… Make him uncomfortable.” Grimmjow drags a hand down his face, groaning at how stupid he feels. How stupid this _all_ feels. “I get it if it’s just like a general boundary but I guess I was just like, oh, he doesn’t like anyone but his husband touching him, that’s fine. But that’s not true now and I’m just like, did I do something? Say something? Did Ulquiorra? Did we give him a bad impression and now he doesn’t want it?”

To his credit, Renji is a great listener. He lets Grimmjow rant for a bit, hand drifting up and down Grimmjow’s bare arm, eyes focused on him. Silence lingers between them for a beat before he clears his throat. “If you did something wrong, he would have thrown you both out.”

“He just seems so _nice_. Maybe too nice, because of what happened.” Grimmjow winces, and Renji shifts closer, drapes an arm across his waist. The contact helps a lot.

“You don’t know him like I do so I get why you think that, but you are so off-base it’s not even funny.” Renji chuckles when Grimmjow glances at him again, a disbelieving expression on his face. “You think I’m wrong? Just remember I’ve been here for years now. If you’d been like, _eww, you have a vagina_ then he’d have walked away and never looked back.”

Grimmjow flinches a little at the wording. “Have guys really… No. I know they have.”

“Of _course_ they have. I was there when one dude asked him if he could technically be gay and trans at the same time like one disqualifies the other from being true.” When Grimmjow’s mouth gapes open, Renji only nods at him, running his fingers lazily up and down Grimmjow’s side. “Felt fucking helpless a bit too like, what do you even say to make that better?”

“I feel like asking this question came out being shitty no matter what ‘cause obviously he’s dealing with a lot more than something as dumb as this.” _I never should have fucking said anything and just let it go but_ no, _I couldn’t even do that, and—_

Renji sucks his lip between his teeth, quiet for a long moment before he interrupts the run of Grimmjow’s thoughts as they grow colder and more cynical. “You really thought you’d done something to upset him, huh? I didn’t think that’s where this was going.”

“Like… If he didn’t like anyone touching him there because it made him uncomfortable, I’d get it. Like not _get_ it, get it, but I could understand the notion well enough to leave it alone.” He should have done that anyway, and what is Aizen going to say when Renji tells him about this conversation? Byakuya is probably going to kick his ass. “But then you have, and I just, it feels so fucking unfair he gets us off so hard but we can’t do anything in return.”

Surprise flares in Renji’s eyes. “You’re just not happy you can’t get him off? That’s what this is about? Or do you think you really upset him? You’re starting to confuse me.”

“It’s both? Like it’s some of one and some of the other. No one has ever made me come harder than he did during that scene.” And Grimmjow has gotten off several times since then just thinking about it, which really says a lot because most of his fantasies don’t tend to include him as a participant. “And I couldn’t do anything to reciprocate. It felt weird with Byakuya, too. He got Ulquiorra off and then jerked me off and I was like, I don’t know what he likes. I don’t know if I should offer to do something for him or even if there’s anything I could do.”

He shifts on the mattress, covering his eyes with one hand because he can’t even bear to think about the way Renji is looking at him for all of these ridiculous not even real problems. “And I thought, maybe we’re not allowed to get him off because we did or said something to make him think he can’t trust us like that. And that fucking sucks but if it’s true, then I mostly just want to make it right even if he still doesn’t want us to touch him.”

“Okay. All right. I get it. Your heart’s in the right place and I’m seeing why you came to talk to me about it instead of just going to him.” Renji moves and Grimmjow looks through his fingers to see Renji sitting up, leaning back against the pillows. “I can’t tell you everything because this really is a conversation you should have with Sosuke, but I can give you some direction. First off, you didn’t do anything wrong. You wouldn’t be here if you did.”

“That’s reassuring,” Grimmjow admits because it actually is in more ways than one.

Renji nods, dragging his hand over his lower jaw, heaving a sigh that moves his entire torso before he squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s having an internal struggle. “When you first started talking I was like, mildly worried you were one of those dudes who thought you’d just have the right to his body regardless of his comfort level. I don’t think that now.”

“It’s really not that.” Grimmjow pushes himself up and it doesn’t matter that Renji _just told him_ that he doesn’t see Grimmjow as some kind of shithead. “I just, I want him to feel good. I want him to feel pleasure the way he gives it to us, and I can’t, and I just thought I fucked up—”

In one fluid movement, Renji leans forward, clamping his hand over Grimmjow’s mouth. “I know, I get it. The reason I’m telling you this is so that if he has the same reaction, you’re prepared for it. Because if you care about him, you _will_ have this conversation with him.”

Grimmjow nods and when Renji moves his hand, he wets his lips and looks down at the bedspread. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have even asked. I don’t know about this all too well. I’d ask Quiorra, but I just… You know _him._ It’s not a hypothetical if it’s with you.”

“I mean, I get that.” Renji sighs again. “It’s just like, finding ways to point you in the right direction without saying shit I shouldn’t. It’s an image thing, I know that much. No one has ever looked at me and been like, oh, you’re not really a man. But they have to him.”

The thought makes Grimmjow’s stomach sour. “I really fucking wish they hadn’t.”

“Yeah, right? But they have. And I know it can be a sore spot because I was there for a scene with another dude and he made a sideways comment about Byakuya after he saw him naked and I fucking, I snapped, and—” Renji waves his hands through the air and Grimmjow whistles low in his throat; Renji has muscle, and he’s built, and he’d probably be a hell of a fighter when he was angry. “It’s a him thing, not a you thing.”

Grimmjow chews on his lower lip until it stings. “Yeah, I… Yeah, okay, I guess.”

“It’s really that. I know it doesn’t seem like a good answer, but it’s the best I can do, really, without feeling like I’m stepping on his toes.” Renji shifts his legs apart and holds out his arms, and it takes Grimmjow a minute to realize it’s an invitation. “Damn it, come here.”

He only manages to half-crawl into the offered space because as soon as he slides within arm’s reach, Renji grips him by his arms and hauls him the rest of the way up against his chest. Like Grimmjow, he’s almost entirely solid muscle and that makes him even _more_ jealous that Renji is out somewhere working out that isn’t the same gym Grimmjow works at. Maybe he can convince him to transfer. But for now he’s content to let Renji hold him, enjoying the broad hands smoothing up and down his back, relaxing his muscles one by one. The tension just melts away and he sighs, pressing his face against Renji’s neck.

“Just talk to him about it,” Renji murmurs, and Grimmjow hums to show he’s listening. “If you’re sincere in how you feel and you tell him that and you actually convey it the right way, he’ll explain it to you. He fucking adores you and your boy, so you haven’t done a thing wrong.”

“That’s… Good. We really like him. Fuck, _I_ really like him. I don’t think anyone else could have convinced me to give all of this a try again.” At least, not in the same way that he has been.

Renji’s fingers thread through his hair and Grimmjow tilts his head back to look up at him. “I’m really glad he put in the effort to get you to try again. Because I am so damn glad I got to meet you two and seeing Sosuke this happy is worth anything in the world.”

“You must really love him that you’re not, like, the least bit jealous,” Grimmjow quips.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that comment.” Renji chuckles and settles into the pillows, and Grimmjow goes with him, craving his touch and his warmth right now. “It’s not about jealousy, though. It’s about realizing that we don’t always meet each other’s needs and that it’s not necessarily a bad thing to find someone who does. And it’s all mutual and consensual.”

Grimmjow nods; the idea is more than a little appealing, the way they keep phrasing it as something they do to supplement what they have now instead of replacing it. Obviously a lot of time and effort and conversation has gone into this and he feels bad all over again that he came to Renji to talk about his concerns instead of addressing Aizen directly. At the very least, Renji gave him a head’s up for how it all might come across if he isn’t sincere and communicative when the time to talk to Aizen comes. He can handle it with those notes in mind.

“I need to ask pretty bluntly because we haven’t had the group conversation yet, but like, are you guys just into the idea of casual sex or do you want a bigger relationship dynamic?” Renji asks, quicky launching into an explanation before Grimmjow can react. “I mean, I’m happy no matter what happens. You’re hot, I wanna spend more time with you. In the sheets or out, doesn’t much matter to me. But I want to know. I don’t want to assume and be wrong.”

“I mean, it’s not a question I can answer without talking to Quiorra first, but like, the more the merrier I guess? If everyone would want that.” Grimmjow drags his nose along Renji’s jaw, breathing in the scent of his skin and a faint whiff of cologne, something dark and musky that makes his gut clench. “I’d be interested in getting to know you better. If it’s okay to do scenes with Byakuya, I don’t know that there’s a real limit in terms of sex.”

Renji nods, fingers tapping a beat along Grimmjow’s spine. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

The muscles, as it turns out, are not just for show. Grimmjow squeaks when he finds himself on his back a moment later, Renji hovering over him and kneeling between his thighs. It’s a compromising position but Grimmjow welcomes it, arching his spine when Renji’s eyes rake up and down his chest, tongue dragging over his lips.

Since they were coming to Las Noches for real this time, Grimmjow dressed for the occasion to the best of his ability. Shorts that are short enough on his legs that wearing underwear was out of the question and a shirt that clings and is just a _little_ too short, leaving just a bare strip of skin above the top of his waistband. No sleeves, because what the fuck does he work out for?

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” Renji sits back on his knees, fingers tracing the bare skin beneath the shirt and above the shorts until Grimmjow shivers. “Oh, fuck.”

Renji’s fingers trace the faint trail of pale blue hairs down Grimmjow’s abdomen, just a flash of color against his skin that slips beneath the shorts and out of sight. He grins when Renji’s eyes unfocus, reaching up to grab him by the braid. “Like it, then?”

“I don’t think there’s a single part of your body that I don’t like,” Renji boldly admits.

Grimmjow has had plenty of guys hit on him over the years but there’s something adorably honest about how blunt Renji is, how much _want_ bleeds into his eyes compared to the delicate way he traces the side seams of Grimmjow’s shorts down to the bare expanse of his thighs. Some of the appreciation is probably purely the fact Renji would know how hard Grimmjow has to work to maintain this body, that it takes a lot of forethought on his part to make sure he eats right and works off the extra calories to keep himself this fit.

And the other part of it is purely sexual, but Grimmjow hardly minds the attention.

“I’m so fucking jealous Sosuke is the one that got to you first.” Renji exhales and it sounds almost like a groan as the pads of his fingers press into Grimmjow’s thighs. “If it’d been Byakuya, I’d probably have gotten to sleep with you by now. At least, I’d _hope_ so.”

The memory of Ulquiorra flushed and sweaty and panting while Byakuya fucked him open with his fingers flashes through Grimmjow’s mind, and his cock throbs at the memory. “Definitely. He’s not exactly shy about making it clear what he wants and then getting it.”

“He’d have wanted you, I’m sure of it.” Renji looks up at him, and his pupils are blown wide enough that the pretty brown of his eyes is almost entirely invisible. “Can I kiss you?”

It’s a funny enough question to ask while Renji is almost groping him that Grimmjow laughs as he nods, stretching his arms out, fingers curling against the empty air. “Hell yeah you can.”

Because it’s Renji, it can’t just be a kiss. Instead, he blankets Grimmjow’s body with his own, letting Grimmjow have his weight and his warmth, propping himself up on one forearm so he can run his hand down the side of Grimmjow’s face. And _maybe_ Quiorra’s nickname for him had come from more than one place; Grimmjow presses into the touch equal parts hungry and grateful, mouthing at Renji’s palm until the redhead moans.

“You have _got_ to stop being so sexy,” he says, though Grimmjow doubts he really means it.

His fingers follow the strong line of Grimmjow’s jaw and then slide back up, cradling his face like he’s something fragile and delicate as he leans down to kiss him. It can be annoying when a man treats him like this but Grimmjow likes it when Renji does it, knows that Renji doesn’t see him as some porcelain doll that he needs to be careful of and tiptoe around. It’s there in the press of his fingers, gripping Grimmjow’s jaw just a little tighter than anyone else other than Ulquiorra would have dared on a first real kiss.

Renji’s kiss, as it turns out, is an all-consuming experience. His lips move slowly at first, an experiment against Grimmjow’s own, getting a feel for the texture of his lips, the shape of his mouth until he figures out how the two of them should fit together. Grimmjow lets him, perfectly willing to let Renji lead as he wraps his arms around those broad shoulders so he can feel the muscles and tendons move beneath his skin. He’s warm even through his tank top, all heat and smooth skin and the heavy weight of his braid where it falls against Grimmjow’s arm.

His tongue sweeps between Grimmjow’s lips and into his mouth, and every motion of his mouth is slow and measured. It makes Grimmjow shiver and moan in response, like he’s being picked apart by something so gentle and so unassuming, so completely normal that it catches him off-guard. When Renji leans back, Grimmjow is panting, his face warmer than it was.

“That’s great,” Renji says dully, and Grimmjow cocks his head up at him in question. “You flush pink and your hair’s blue and it looks like cotton candy. You’re so fucking _cute,_ Grimm.”

The compliment catches him unaware and he laughs, presses his face against Renji’s shoulder as his face burns all the more. “Shut up, asshole. I’m not cute. I’m sexy.”

“You’re both and I hate it because that’s so much worse.” Renji leans back to kiss him again, slower and smaller ones until Grimmjow is warm and lax against the bedspread.

He almost misses the fact Renji is shifting above him until one firm, denim-clad thigh presses between his own against where his cock is slowly hardening. That touch certainly speeds up the process and he chokes a little because these shorts don’t really have that much room in them and he’s already straining against the front of them, grateful the seams are on the side because he can only imagine how bad he’d chafe if one was across the front.

Renji grins down at him, laughing when Grimmjow sticks his tongue out at him. “You offering? Because I can think of a few things to do with that tongue.”

“I definitely am.” Grimmjow’s breath hitches when Renji’s thigh rubs over his cock once more, trying to keep his hips still against the bedspread because he could rut himself to orgasm, but where’s the one in that? “You can do pretty much whatever you want with me.”

“Nah, just the stuff you wanna do.” It’s a stern reminder but phrased sweet enough that Grimmjow’s stomach tightens just a little bit. “Pretty sure I wanna use my tongue on you, though. Sosuke said you’re really vocal when someone’s licking your ass.”

That memory makes Grimmjow’s cock _throb_ and he moans, head falling back against the bedspread at the thought. Yeah, he was vocal all right. Aizen’s tongue only felt like the best thing in the world and he thought he could have come from that alone, Aizen’s tongue curling inside of him when his entire body was running sensitive from all the textures and temperature changes. The thought of Renji doing that makes him jolt, uncomfortably aroused.

“If you’re serious, I’ll let you do it.” Like he’s got anything to lose.

“I wouldn’t jerk a pretty boy like you around, believe me.” Renji’s fingers hook in the V of his shirt, giving the fabric a tug. “But I want to undress you first. You gonna let me do that?”

Grimmjow almost squirms on the bed, lifting his arms over his head. “Go for it, Ren.”

Callused hands slide under the bottom of his shirt, straining the tight fabric with the invasion, the pads of Renji’s fingers rubbing over his skin as he pushes the fabric up. It bunches around Grimmjow’s collarbone and Renji just stops to look at him, his face flushing hot before he pushes the shirt up over Grimmjow’s head. But he stops when the fabric gathers at his wrists, leaving it there, and Grimmjow’s skin runs in goosebumps at the realization.

Makeshift bondage? Okay. He can definitely work with that.

Renji rubs the pad of his thumb over a nipple until Grimmjow moans, the sensitive bud hardening under Renji’s touch. “Fuck, that’s so pretty. You really are responsive.”

“I love it when hot guys pay attention to me.” He’s shameless in the way he says it and Renji laughs a little awkwardly, which only makes Grimmjow snicker all the more at him. He’d been the one unprepared here, so it’s nice to turn the tables just a little bit.

“And I love it when men are loud for me. Tells me just how good of a job I’m really doing.” Renji leans down, hot breath ghosting over Grimmjow’s bare skin. “Anyone can get a dude off. Fuck, anyone with one spare hand can make someone come. It’s so much better when you’ve got someone flushed and sweaty and moaning because they just can’t stay quiet.”

Grimmjow’s chest heaves at the thought and he whines when Renji’s lips tease a path down his sternum, not quite kissing his skin and barely touching him. “I could be so loud for you.”

“I’m gonna put Sosuke to shame tonight.” Renji presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against his stomach and Grimmjow chokes on a gasp, the cool air in the room seeming to dance over his hot skin. “Tell me what you like and you know I’ll just keep doing it.”

He kisses his way back up Grimmjow’s torso, tongue swiping over his skin now and then before their lips meet again. He’s rougher this time, teeth tugging at Grimmjow’s lips, tongue curling against and around his own, fingers gripping his jaw so tight it almost aches a little. And it’s _nice,_ this rough edge, this pressure. It makes Grimmjow’s fingers curl tight in his own shirt for some kind of anchor, has him rocking his erection against Renji’s thigh with a stuttered gasping noise. He’s already leaking through the front of the shorts, he can feel it.

Renji hums against his lips, fingers catching a nipple, twisting and tugging until Grimmjow whimpers, until the flesh is hard in his grip. “You don’t have to use safewords with me if you don’t wanna. Just say “no” or “stop” and I’ll do it. Not a scene, just some casual hot sex.”

“Okay, easy enough.” Grimmjow leans up, catches Renji’s bottom lip between his teeth and _pulls._ “Stop talking and put your mouth on my body. I’ll make all the pretty sounds for you.”

The wicked smile his words receive sends a little thrill through his body before Renji descends on him once more, kissing a hot wet path from his throat down to his chest. It seems so fucking impossible to him that he’s here right now with Renji when he’d been dating Ulquiorra exclusively, feels almost too dreamlike to be real, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and ruin the moment. Instead he spreads his legs wider so Renji can get comfortable and then wraps them tight around his fit waist, making sure he can’t escape either.

His own little form of bondage to even the score for tangling his hands up like this.

“You could crush my head with these.” Renji palms one of his thighs and Grimmjow purrs up at him, enjoying the praise and the attention. “In fact, you fucking should. I’ll even let you do it.”

Distantly, he wonders if Ulquiorra is having as much fun as he is right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor grimmjow, his heart really is in the right place but it's hard to sound convincing when you really need to when the situation is as delicate and personal as this one is. he just really wants to be a good boyfriend, bless his heart.
> 
> do you guys want the aishin reward sex through ulquiorra's pov or do you want grimmren? really would like to know what you're more interested in.
> 
> ALSO do you wanna meet nozarashi in canon? i'm considering it.
> 
> big lol at the fact i was like "everyone is understanding so if i don't post a chapter a day they will not be upset" and then i finish chapter fifteen and immediately write sixteen anyway.


	17. the novelty of a revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** brief mentions of transphobia and transitioning processes, some uncomfy past relationship stuff
> 
> **sexual content:** mentions of a bdsm scene that's mostly in the background

The scene with Byakuya should have solidified Ulquiorra’s confidence in this relationship.

Any sane man would have been left speechless by such a beautiful and dominating man taking complete control of him and his pleasure, keeping him on the very edge just to take him apart with meticulous patience and put him back together again. His mind was fuzzy until he came back to himself in the bathtub, Byakuya’s fingers carefully sliding through his hair to wash the remnants of conditioner out of his long black locks. With his view of the world around him dizzyingly unfocused and yet centered on the man caring for him, Ulquiorra was surprised at how content he felt to be washed and dressed like a doll.

Byakuya was wonderful, was  _ perfect _ for that matter and for a while, Ulquiorra could content himself with the notion that such a man would hardly pay such intricate attention to him if Ulquiorra, in the grand scheme of things, was slated to mean nothing to any of them. It wasn’t like the first time— the last time— where he was only interested in one person in the arrangement and more or less just tried to keep things together for her sake.

He could have lied to himself about it, he was sure. Could have deluded himself into thinking Byakuya was only doing this for the sake of keeping things together, for the sake of Aizen’s happiness and the fulfillment he seems to find with the four of them. It would have been easy to feed himself that narrative a thousand times considering how life itself pointed in that direction where he was concerned. If Grimmjow could go from happy in a monogamous relationship with him to wanting to give a relationship with another man— maybe another  _ three _ men, Ulquiorra isn’t quite sure— a chance, what did that mean about Ulquiorra in the grand scheme of things?

It means nothing good. It means he either faked his happiness until he finally found a chance to get what he wants out of life, or it means that Ulquiorra ultimately bored him and the moment someone more exciting came along, Grimmjow was ready to jump on that option.

Neither option was particularly attractive, but both of them seemed particularly relevant.

Except. Except seated here on the padded trunk at the foot of the bed, watching Aizen and Shinji complete a dance that feels as natural as breathing, Ulquiorra finds himself conflicted on that path of thinking. It comes back to Byakuya, the way he had put his own personal pleasure aside and focused entirely on Ulquiorra— Or, at least, it seemed so at the time. How could anyone discern such enjoyment from spending at least an hour between one person’s legs, doing nothing but giving them pleasure, and then taking care of them after?

It seems a mystery to Ulquiorra. All of the videos and reading material he consumed in order to help Grimmjow along this pathway of submission— a road both of them appear to be walking hand in hand these days— made him believe the split was very mutual. It usually ended in orgasm for both parties, sometimes multiple orgasms for the submissive, but it almost never seemed to be one person stepping back and focusing entirely on the other.

He chalked Aizen’s uncertainty about seeking release with them up to his own personal discomfort with being touched, which made Ulquiorra seek out a way to give him some kind of reciprocation without having to use his hands. Without having any control over the situation whatsoever, in the grand scheme of things; he let Aizen use his body for his own pleasure, and he doesn’t regret it. Maybe… Maybe he lets people use him a little too often, though.

Certainly, he’d done it in the past. Just the  _ memory _ makes his gut churn.

“Eyes on me, sub.” Aizen snaps his fingers, Shinji’s gaze snapping back to him. It’s wandered once more to where Ulquiorra watches him, legs crossed neatly, fingers tented in front of his lips. “I know he’s a pretty distraction, but you don’t get rewarded by not paying attention.”

The comment has Shinji whining softly and shifting on his knees, restless energy coursing down his spine, the lace across his hips drawn taut over his erection. “I apologize, Sir.”

It helps that Shinji is not someone Ulquiorra knows well or, for that matter, is all that interested in as a person. He wants to try switching, he meant it when he said that, but he meant it with Grimmjow and not with some stranger whose history with Aizen runs uncomfortably deep. Sue him, but he can’t help but be a little jealous, a little insecure. He has his reasons.

No one would begrudge him those reasons. Not after that one hour wait in the rain that was followed by a three hour train ride to somewhere he could spend the night.

But Shinji being here lets Ulquiorra be just a little more objective about the situation, and he purses his lips as he watches Aizen’s face. Watches his dark eyes spark and glow with amusement and pleasure because acting in this role seems to do more for Aizen than Ulquiorra can wrap his mind around, seems to give him a satisfaction that Ulquiorra himself has never encountered and therefore finds himself watching, trying to analyze and understand it.

His fingers twitch. He wants charcoal. He wants the familiar textured paper of one of his sketchbooks, wants to capture the lines of Aizen’s face thrown into such sharp relief. Hardened in places even as his lips squirk, always soft, his eyelashes long and feathery with every blink.

The iron focus he has on Shinji is undeniable. While Shinji’s gaze might drift again and again to Ulquiorra— he  _ likes _ an audience, even a quiet one it seems— Aizen focuses only on him, sees only him, is probably tracking the minute flush spreading beneath his warm skin and the way his shoulders rise and fall with each breath, his thighs trembling.

Ulquiorra’s reading taught him about the excitement of the mind game aspect of BDSM, the idea that all of this was just extended roleplay in a way, but there had been little about the pure satisfaction a Dominant seemed to get out of watching a submissive’s every reaction, drinking in their sounds and the sight of their body responding even in small increments. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to Aizen during his scene with Grimmjow, he would have known that.

Not his fault he happens to have a gorgeous boyfriend that makes him ache in so many ways.

“You should apologize for such unsightly behavior.” Aizen makes a  _ tsk _ noise and takes a step in Ulquiorra’s direction, and the sight makes Ulquiorra’s stomach jolt uncomfortably fast. “You’ll do well to remember that reward or not, you do not touch what belongs to me.”

_ What belongs to me. _ Ulquiorra bites down hard on one of his fingers to stifle the noise that comment draws out of his throat, his body uncomfortably hot under his scant clothing.

Shinji lowers his head, properly chastised, and nods his head. “Of course not, Sir.”

The scene is nondescript at best, a series of acts that Ulquiorra tracks with his eyes before he’s forced to turn around to watch the events that unfold on the bed. Aizen keeps his underwear on beneath the harness, which Ulquiorra understands, but otherwise fucks Shinji with a single-minded determination that has him trembling and sobbing and begging. Nothing about the scene sticks out in Ulquiorra’s mind other than Aizen’s expressions, the slight curl at the corner of his mouth every so often. The fact he’d enjoyed without Shinji touching him at all.

After Shinji is cleaned up and tucked under the bedspread, Aizen’s fingers in his soft golden hair lulling him to sleep, he comes to sit on the trunk with Ulquiorra. His shirt hangs off of his shoulders, loose fabric outlining the definition in his chest and abdominal muscles, the scars that Ulquiorra traces with his eyes before he meets Aizen’s intent gaze. Those chocolate brown eyes he’s grown so used to are gentle as Aizen raises a hand, touching Ulquiorra’s cheek.

“You’re so quiet.” Aizen’s fingers creep beneath his chin, tipping it up, and Ulquiorra goes easy with the movement, his eyelids growing heavy beneath Aizen’s attention. “Are you all right?”

Ulquiorra drags his tongue over his lips, wetting them, aware he hasn’t had anything to drink since he came to Las Noches. “I’m fine. I was just doing some hard thinking.”

“You seem like you do that a lot, you know.” Aizen opens his arms, a clear invitation, and Ulquiorra casts a glance at the bed to make sure they aren’t disturbing Shinji before he crawls into Aizen’s lap, fingers settling on the bare plane of his chest.

He can feel the minute shift in Aizen’s breathing when he realizes where Ulquiorra’s hand has ended up. “Am I allowed to touch here? Or would you like me to stop?”

“It’s fine. They’re just scars.” Aizen takes Ulquiorra’s hand gently in his own, guiding his fingers down to one of the scars beneath his pectoral muscle. The skin has a different texture here and Ulquiorra explores it carefully with the pads of his fingers. “You’d think such major invasive surgery would hurt more than it did, but the hysterectomy was much more painful.”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully at the words; he’d heard a similar sentiment once, from someone else. “Because your organs move around to take up the space leftover.”

“Exactly. You’re very intelligent.” Aizen kisses him on the forehead just beneath his hairline and Ulquiorra thinks this is meant to be a reward for that intelligence, which is ludicrous. Anyone can do even basic research. “It was very strange. But I was prepared, and even elated.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you were able to do something that meant a lot to you.” Ulquiorra’s fingers trace a delicate path down Aizen’s chest to the scar on his stomach, brushing his thumb over it. “Do you wish to do more? We could always take turns taking care of you.”

Aizen laughs softly against his skin, his arms coming to rest gently around Ulquiorra’s waist. “No. I thought about it. At one point, I thought I would. The results aren’t exactly desirable, that is to say, I’m not happy with what’s currently available. Maybe one day. For now, I’m happy with my body and its current state. Most people read me as a man just like this.”

Though he doesn’t quite understand the sentiment— no one has ever looked at Ulquiorra as anything other than a man even though he’s shorter and more delicate looking than most men he knows— he’s glad to hear the contentment in Aizen’s voice, the warmth there. It makes something soft unfurl in his chest and he sucks in a breath at the sensation, not prepared to guard against it in such a soft and quiet moment. It should be impossible to feel this way when he’d just watched Aizen have sex with some random man he doesn’t know, and yet…

“You’re a very handsome man.” Ulquiorra means it, his fingers crawling slowly back up Aizen’s chest, his head playing a very singsong version of “Itsy Bitsy Spider” as he does. When he reaches Aizen’s shoulder, his hand slips back to where his hair is tied into a low bun, tugging the ribbon out of it so he can smoothe his fingers through Aizen’s soft, long hair.

“Thank you, darling.” Aizen shifts closer to him, if that was possible, his chin coming to rest on Ulquiorra’s shoulder. Even sitting in Aizen’s lap, the height difference is not quite made up, but Ulquiorra likes the closeness just the same. “You’re an artist, so I’d trust you’d have an eye for beauty. I can take you that much more seriously as a result.”

The sentiment makes Ulquiorra smile more than it should. “Well, if Grimmjow is any indicator, then my taste in men is impeccable and you should trust me to know what beauty is.”

“That, too.” Aizen leans back to look at him and Ulquiorra could get lost in his eyes, the complex play of emotions there that he doesn’t quite understand. “Can I kiss you, Ulquiorra?”

He flushes from the bluntness of the question. “Of course you can, Sir.”

“I would never presume to have access to your body without your consent.” Aizen cups his jaw, strokes his thumb along Ulquiorra’s lower lip until it lowers under the pressure. “ _ Lovely. _ ”

When he kisses Ulquiorra, he does it in such a way that makes Ulquiorra’s brain threaten to short circuit, his eyes rolling back in his head just a little as his mouth opens against Aizen’s. He loves how soft Aizen’s lips are against his own, slightly damp from where he’s licked and bitten them during his scene with Shinji but insistent against his own, insinuating a slow and dangerous rhythm that could have Ulquiorra falling under his thrall at any moment. Certainly if the way Aizen holds him by the chin is any indicator, he’s firmly in control of this and Ulquiorra is happy to settle into his hold, into the grip of his control.

It’s a surprisingly enticing place to be, all things considered.

“It’s nice to see you open up like this. So warm and pliant for me.” Aizen kisses him between every few words, leaving Ulquiorra feeling dizzy and hot. “I was jealous when Byakuya told me about what he did with you and how you responded. It must have been beautiful.”

The thought makes Ulquiorra squirm on Aizen’s lap. “He is very, ah, adept at what he does.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. I’ve seen him exercise all kinds of control when it matters.” Aizen’s fingers stroke against the front of Ulquiorra’s throat and it sends a little shiver through him. “But I’m concerned just the same. Byakuya said you were very worried about all of this.”

Oh. So they had talked about the conversation that preceded the scene, too. “Yes.”

“Can I ask… No, hold on.” Aizen abruptly stands and Ulquiorra squeaks, legs tangling around his waist, arms gripping his shoulders with sudden and panicky strength. Not that he has anything to worry about, Aizen’s hands under his thighs keeping him level as he walks across the room to a plush chair in the corner, sitting comfortably in it.

He settles Ulquiorra on his lap, hands splaying in the small of his back so that they’re facing each other once more, and the chair is wide enough that Ulquiorra can press his knees down into the cushion on either side of Aizen’s hips. It’s a surprisingly intimate position and he tries to ignore the heat in his face at the proximity of their bodies and how casual Aizen looks like this, like he’s had a thousand men sitting in his lap just like this.

...He probably has, at that.

“You made a distinction to Byakuya that I thought was very enlightening and necessitated a conversation between the two of us.” Aizen strokes his face before Ulquiorra can get back to properly panicking about the conversation, like he knows what’s coming, how hard it’s going to be. “Grimmjow likes me. So do you, but. There was a but there. I would like to know if you are doing this because Grimmjow wants to do this and you actually have no such inclination.”

The question makes his gut churn in a whole new way, one that Aizen can’t possibly pick up on because he doesn’t know. He just  _ doesn’t _ but that doesn’t mean Ulquiorra doesn’t feel that familiar itch beneath his skin, that anxiety-ridden desire to bolt. But he’s an adult and it’s a fair statement to make, a fair thing to want to know. It would be rude not to be honest with him.

_ “It  _ has _ to be something you want.” _

Ulquiorra picks at the fabric of Aizen’s shirt and avoids his eyes, fixing his gaze on Aizen’s collarbones instead. “I want this. I want you. I want… Everything, and that’s selfish of me, I think. To want not just my partner, but also you, and… And anything I can get. I was more than happy to let Byakuya into my house and… And my body. I wanted him.”

“He wanted you, too.” Aizen’s fingers are in his hair, tucking loose strands back behind his ears and it’s probably too long. He probably needs to cut it soon.

“Grimmjow was the one who wanted to try BDSM. I didn’t care one way or another, I thought it would be all the same to me. But it’s not.” Ulquiorra wants to squirm out of Aizen’s lap and crawl under the bed because talking about this is difficult, and emotions have always been hard for him. “But it wasn’t like that. When it was with you, it was different. I wasn’t doing anything and I felt involved, and when you touched me, it was. I wanted that, again and again.”

Aizen laughs softly and Ulquiorra can see him nodding out of the edge of his vision, his fingers massaging Ulquiorra’s scalp so gently. “It’s okay to want it. I wouldn’t want you not to. I’d only ever want your consent and your pleasure. Nothing less than that, not for this.”

“I know that. I’m understanding it better.” Ulquiorra swallows hard, his throat feeling rough and tight, and he doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t  _ want _ to talk about it. “No details but I just, I, something happened a long time ago and I’m not. I’m not okay after it.”

The hand in his hair stills for just a moment before it moves again, the same steady and measured movements as before. “Byakuya and I came to a similar conclusion about the conversation the two of you had. That someone had hurt you and you were still carrying those scars, or maybe open wounds more aptly. This situation ripped it all back open.”

“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” Ulquiorra presses, and Aizen hushes him gently.

“You don’t have to talk about it yet, darling. If you want there to be more time before you open up to us, then I’m more than willing to give that to you. I think everyone is.” Aizen’s hand slips behind his head, not forcing him to look up, just a touch lingering against his scalp that sends a satisfied little thrill through his body. “It’s upsetting to think about, someone bruising your heart in such a way that you’re still hurting from it to this day.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head. “It was my fault. I didn’t want it and I did it anyway.”

“And now you’re worried you’re on the edge of walking into another situation where you end up agreeing to something you don’t want?” Aizen waits for Ulquiorra’s very small nod— there’s a lot more to it than that, of course, but that’s the gist of it— and sighs softly, then crushes Ulquiorra against his own chest so suddenly and fervently that Ulquiorra squeaks.

He flails a little at first and then he realizes Aizen is just embracing him, and he calms as he wraps his arms around Aizen’s shoulders and lets himself just be for a moment. There’s a tender warmth in every small touch but this is different, hotter and a little more passionate, the press of Aizen’s fingers into his spine enough to make him sit up and take notice of the change in the man. His mind could, of course, be playing tricks on him, but he doubts it.

When Aizen leans back, Ulquiorra finds himself able to meet those eyes once more and almost wishes he didn’t try when he sees how sad they are. “I’ve ruined your good mood, Sir.”

It shouldn’t surprise him he’d managed to do something like this but it still makes something small and sour curl tight in his gut, the fact he’d ruined the fun Aizen had with Shinji.

“Don’t. Don’t blame this on yourself. You…” Aizen breaks off, presses his fingers between his eyes before he takes Ulquiorra’s face in both hands. “I would rather sit and have this necessary conversation with you than bask in the afterglow. Shinji is a friend, a dearly beloved friend, but you are my boyfriend. My lover, Ulquiorra. Taking care of you is very important to me.”

The admission makes Ulquiorra squirm and duck his head, not used to such attentions. “Thank you. I feel like I don’t deserve this, but I appreciate it just the same.”

“You deserve this and so much more. I don’t know what happened in your past, but I’m going to show you what a proper future should be like.” Aizen takes one of his hands, presses slow kisses to each of his fingers in turn. Scarred and callused, roughened by art and drawing before he switched to his tablet. “Do you want to be my lover, Ulquiorra? Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra tries to put as much conviction into the word as he can, knowing his voice never quite conveys how he feels, so monotone and boring. So unchanging. “I want to be your lover, your boyfriend, your submissive… I want to be yours. Being with you makes me happy.”

Aizen exhales slowly and the warmth that spreads across his handsome features makes Ulquiorra uncurl himself just a little. The way he smiles isn’t like the expression he wore when he was done with Shinji, something open and maybe just a touch more intimate, a touch more vulnerable. Something he only favors certain people with, perhaps.

“Darling,” Aizen murmurs, and Ulquiorra preens just a little under the name especially when Aizen leans closer, his lips just barely brushing against Ulquiorra’s. “That’s the loveliest thing I’ve heard so far. Say it more often and I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

Ulquiorra nods and gently places a hand on Aizen’s chest, pressing him back just a little. “I have a small concern,” he says, satisfied when Aizen shifts back into listening mode, nodding for him to go on. “I… I am afraid there will not be a place for me in this relationship. Or that you’ll grow tired of me and how long it takes me to have these conversations.”

“No.” Aizen speaks the word with such resolution that Ulquiorra’s eyes widen just a touch at the sound of it, the sensation of it in the air around him. Between them. “That will not and will never happen. If it takes three times the effort to make things work with you that it does with Grimmjow, it will be well worth it. And I will  _ not _ split the two of you up.”

Relief sweeps through Ulquiorra so suddenly that he goes a bit slack in Aizen’s grip and tears prick the corners of his eyes, his breath coming out in a soft shudder.  _ It will be well worth it. _ The reassurance that Aizen isn’t going to give up on him makes his heart timidly unfold in his chest and he whimpers just a little. And Aizen is there to kiss the sound off of his lips, thumbing away the tears before they can fall and letting Ulquiorra lean into him.

“Breathe for me, Ulquiorra.” Aizen kisses him, tiny pecks of his lips along Ulquiorra’s jaw and lips and cheekbones until his breathing evens out into something softer. “Good. Very good.”

He sniffles just a little and clings to Aizen tighter. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear someone say that to me. I was so worried.”

“I understand. I don’t know what happened in the past, but it’s not going to happen anymore. I’m not going to allow it to happen. We’ll all take care of you and of each other as it’s meant to be.” Aizen kisses him on the nose and Ulquiorra scrunches his face up a little at the sensation, his heart jumping when Aizen laughs softly. “But I have another question to ask you.”

_ Another question? _ “Feel free to ask. If I have an answer, I’ll give it to you.”

“You said you wanted me. Obviously, you want Grimmjow.” Aizen pauses, and Ulquiorra nods, trying to give him the affirmative he must be searching for. “What about Byakuya and Renji? What do you want from this? If you only want sex, then that can be arranged.”

Ulquiorra worries his lower lip between his teeth, trying to choose how to answer this question as properly as possible. “You should talk to them about this, too, shouldn’t you?”

The way Aizen arches an eyebrow at him makes Ulquiorra flush. “Are you being serious with me right now? Of course Byakuya wants more with you. He didn’t take care of you for no reason. He told you himself it wasn’t about casual sex. And Renji… Will take anything you give him. If it’s just sex, good. If it’s more, great. But I’m willing to bet that if I pinned him down and made him give me a direct answer, he’d say he wants you both. Because I know him.”

It takes Ulquiorra’s breath away just a little thinking about the finer details, about the fact that he might… That he might be able to want them, that they want him back. He isn’t just the weird, creepy, quiet problem solver of the group that the others tolerate because only one of them loved him, but she loved him fiercely enough that the others never questioned it. Up until the very end when everyone questioned it and Ulquiorra found himself storming out of the apartment they were supposed to be sharing, numb and cold even without the rain.

His expression must give something away because Aizen’s fingers are on his face again. “Ulquiorra, you look so sad. What’s upsetting you right now?”

“Later,” he says like a promise, and Aizen nods, letting it go. “I want all of you. I want Grimmjow obviously, he knows me better than anyone ever has. I want you and the way you make me feel so special with just the way you look at me, the way you touch me. I want Byakuya and his blunt forwardness and the way he just looked right through me and I want Renji and his stupid sexy singing and overwrought flirting. I want  _ everything _ and that’s so selfish of me.”

Aizen’s lips curve up into a soft smile and he nods once. “It may be selfish, but it’s not bad to be selfish every once in a while. We all want you. You have every right to want us back.”

It feels like a revelation to have this laid out in front of him and Ulquiorra stares at him for a long, torturous moment before he throws his arms around Aizen’s neck and kisses him.

The hands on his back slide under his shirt, teasing along his warm bare skin and sending a shiver of sensation up and down his spine. He’s simultaneously cool enough that he presses against Aizen tight, thinking he must have lost so much of his own internal body heat because he’s done nothing but blush this entire  _ fucking _ time but also too hot, thinking about just stripping his clothing off and letting Aizen look at him and touch him.

Within seconds, Aizen has taken the lead, lips and tongue coaxing and urging Ulquiorra along until he feels hot and dizzy from the intensity of it all. It’s only when Shinji snores softly on the bed that they stop kissing and Ulquiorra giggles, feeling weird all over.

“I’m going to let Shinji sleep this off and ask Kensei to come watch over him. He doesn’t like to wake up alone.” The sweet concern in Aizen’s voice is another reason to fall for him; even in the midst of a seemingly romantic if not idyllic moment, he thinks about someone he cares about and needs to take care of. “I want to find Byakuya, and I want you to tell him what you told me.”

Ulquiorra nods obediently. “Yes, Sir,” he says, because it just feels right.

He doesn’t recognize the Dominant that Aizen calls to his room but he’s handsome, sharp-featured and white-haired and when he looks at Shinji, his face softens so much it almost hurts to look at him. There’s something private and intimate in that expression that makes Ulquiorra feel like they’re looking in on something they shouldn’t be, but if Aizen notices it, he makes no hint about it. Instead, he swiftly takes Ulquiorra by the hand and leads him out of the room, setting a brisk pace that has his boots tapping staccato against the floor.

It’s an interesting sound. Ulquiorra should get a pair of boots like his.

Byakuya is sitting with another man Ulquiorra does not quite recognize, though the slim black ribbon around the man’s neck would imply submissive. Handsome and dark-haired with eyes such a bright blue Ulquiorra can see them even from the distance, he seems to realize something is going on and quickly bows out of the conversation, a fluid dip of neck and spine that makes Ulquiorra’s breath catch in his throat. There are just so many beautiful people in this club, and he wants to draw so many of them. Maybe he will one day.

“Hello, my love. Ulquiorra.” Byakuya raises a glass of what appears to be wine to them as if in mock toast, patting the empty spot on the loveseat next to him. “Come sit with me.”

Aizen stops short, guides Ulquiorra to stand in front of him and rests both hands on top of his shoulders. His grip is warm and reassuring, and it calms something in Ulquiorra’s gut. “Not quite yet, my love. Ulquiorra has something he would like to tell you.”

Byakuya raises one slender, graceful brow and raises his glass to his lips, taking a long swallow of dark red liquid before setting the glass aside. His tongue peeks between his lips, licking away a few stray droplets of wine. “What is it you want to say, Ulquiorra? I’m curious now.”

There are a thousand and one ways he can go about making this confession but Ulquiorra chooses a language he knows Byakuya will understand well, stepping out of Aizen’s grip and walking up to where the beautiful Dominant in front of him waits. Even though his posture is relaxed, there’s something about him that screams  _ model _ , something so ethereal and impossible to put into words that Ulquiorra feels that urge to draw him all over again.

Some day soon, then. They have all the time in the world.

He picks out a spot on the floor in front of Byakuya and kneels, one knee at a time because he’s not sure of the flooring or his ability to go down in one fluid motion. His thighs part as he shuffles around on his knees and once he has his positioned settled, he rests his hands on his thighs, palms upturned before he raises his eyes to Byakuya’s gorgeous face.

Those grey eyes are wide, full lips parted around a soundless noise before he clears his throat in an attempt to collect himself. “What’s all of this, now?”

Ulquiorra takes a deep breath and allows it to uncoil inside of his lungs, soothing the taut pull of his muscles. His voice comes out shockingly clear and does not quiver. “I want you, Sir. As a Dominant, as a lover, as a romantic partner. Any way you’ll have me.”

“Oh.” Byakuya’s hands flutter toward his throat before realization dawns in his gaze, his lips spreading into a wide smile and the sight of the pleasure in that expression makes Ulquiorra feel so good he doesn’t know how to explain it.  _ “Oh, _ my darling. I’ll have you in every way.”

He spreads his legs, taps the spot between them and Ulquiorra crawls to him, aware that Aizen is following his movements with slow steps. His head comes to rest on Byakuya’s thigh and he looks up at him, aware he probably looks pitifully adoring right now, but how could he ever help himself in such a situation? He feels so safe right now, so warm.

Byakuya’s fingers sift through his hair and Ulquiorra hums softly, closes his eyes. “That’s right, sub. Stay right here with me just a while. Right where I can touch you as I please.”

Ulquiorra is content right where he is and wonders, distantly, where Grimmjow got off to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so honestly dead on my own ass right now that i don't even know what to say here.
> 
> this piece of writing has just become the longest thing i have ever personally written with this chapter and there is still more of it to go. i want to thank everyone for the support and the comments and the warmth i've received writing this. there's always a tiny fear of posting anything with trans characters because there is often a pushback, and it's hard when you're trans because sometimes it feels like a pushback against you as a person, too.
> 
> but you guys have been great and i'm so excited to see where this story goes with you.


	18. a service of adoration in practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** talk of transphobia and general dysphoria and how shitty a sexual partner can really be, some anxiety stuff mentioned too. mostly a necessary slightly uncomfortable but definitely well-meaning conversation.
> 
> **sexual content:** explicit oral sex, enthusiastic consent, like a kind of mentioned blowjob

Having Aizen over to their apartment becomes a regular shift in schedule so that instead of being a change of pace, they make time to ensure he can come see them. Winter comes in fiercely and Grimmjow laughs every time Ulquiorra complains about a room being too cold only to bundle up, pajama pants and a sweatshirt that used to belong to Grimmjow, fluffy socks and even fingerless gloves to keep his fingers from growing stiff while he draws only to complain he’s too hot maybe an hour later and undress once more. No room is ever warm enough for him and then all of them become too hot so rapidly Grimmjow wonders how he deals with it.

Cold weather hardly fazes him nearly as much so he spends quite a few evenings curled up with Ulquiorra on the couch, letting his boyfriend leach as much body heat off of him as he wants. He could be wrong about all of this— God knows it wouldn’t be the first time he read someone wrong— but he thinks Ulquiorra seems happier about all of this, more settled as time goes by and none of their boyfriends lose any interest in him.

_ Boyfriends. _ Now there’s a novelty that Grimmjow will never get tired of.

He still notices, in the back of his mind, that there are some slight differences and he tells himself not to question it. He’s yet to have the conversation with Aizen that he had with Renji and even though there has been no tension or friction that he can latch onto to explain why Aizen continues to keep them at arm’s length in certain ways, Aizen still doesn’t invite them over to the house. He still doesn’t let them return the pleasure he gives them and Grimmjow finds himself morosely studying bruises in the mirror, or rope marks around his wrists, and wondering why Aizen always keeps his underwear firmly on in bed with them.

The fact his brain has chosen to fixate on this during one of the nights that Aizen is spending over at their apartment is a special kind of hell in and of itself, he thinks.

Ulquiorra has taken up residence in a chair adjacent to the couch, one earbud tucked into his ear while he works on his tablet. Sometimes Grimmjow likes to watch him work and thinks the artist glove he wears to cover roughly half of his hand compliments him far too much. But right now, with his head safely cushioned in Aizen’s lap while some show he isn’t paying attention to casts interesting shadows on the ceiling and walls, all he can think about is this situation.

Is he overthinking things? Maybe. That’s usually Ulquiorra’s job but he seems so settled and happy and Grimmjow feels odd for being the person who still has questions about all of this.

To be fair, he’d been beating himself up a fair amount after his conversation with Renji. Far from soothing his mind and reassuring him he isn’t a giant asshole for wanting to be able to give Aizen something in return for everything he does for Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, he feels worse for even caring. Like making the words tangible and hanging them in the air out loud only exposed what kind of slimy bastard he is inside for thinking about it at all.

Aizen’s fingers comb through his hair, catching his attention. “Grimmjow, is something wrong?”

“Mm.” Grimmjow glances at the screen, biting down on his tongue when he realizes Ulquiorra has chosen the Starrk show that just dropped on Netflix like two days ago. “Maybe.”

In seconds, the show is paused and Aizen’s fingers are beneath his chin, tilting his head so that Grimmjow has to look him in the eye… Or slightly over his shoulder, which is honestly the preferential view for the moment. “If something is wrong, we should talk about it.”

“If you don’t communicate when there are problems bothering you, they risk snowballing into something a lot more serious that cannot be fixed with a simple conversation.” Not once does Ulquiorra lift his eyes from his tablet, pen moving in steady strokes across the screen.

“Shut up. I know that.” Grimmjow sighs and drags a hand down his face, jumping just a little when his hand brushes against Aizen’s. “I just… It’s a weird problem to even have.”

Aizen frowns down at him. “Weird problem or not, if you have a problem, we should talk about it. That is, if you want to. I don’t want to push it. But if it’s a problem with the relationship or an individual involved in it… I kind of feel like I have to. Because Ulquiorra is correct.”

Grimmjow maybe risks fucking everything up if he talks about this out loud and he knows that better than anyone, knows that better than any of them could ever conceive even if they wanted to because he knows everything that is at risk here. He knows how vaguely awful all of this sounds no matter what Renji says, that on some level it  _ has _ to be fucked up to want to go down on his boyfriend who maybe doesn’t want that from him. Maybe. But he gets it from Renji and Byakuya so Grimmjow is just left wondering if he’s done something wrong, said something wrong, has just kept picking apart his own speech wondering what he did.

Maybe it’s worth it to risk it. At the very least, even if Aizen never wants to look at him again after they have this conversation, he can at least find out what he did wrong and apologize for it. Find a way to make it right and not make the same mistake again.

“Okay.” Grimmjow covers his eyes with his forearm because he absolutely cannot look at Aizen right now, he  _ cannot _ bear the shock and disgust that is sure to be in his eyes. “So like, I didn’t want to say anything about it because it feels shitty to care. And like I talked to Renji about it and I  _ know _ I should have asked you first but I just, he’s… I don’t know. I needed to talk to someone about it and you said a thing at the bar and—”

“The bar? Do you mean when we went to see Zabimaru perform?” Ulquiorra asks softly.

Grimmjow exhales slowly and nods, his fingers twitching with nerves. “Yeah. The joke about oral sex. I… You said you didn’t want us to touch you when we were at dinner. I remembered that because I was like, I gotta. Or I might slip or something and I don’t want to.”

Aizen’s fingers return to combing through his hair, and Grimmjow can’t tell from that touch alone if he’s upset about this line of thought already. He should be. Grimmjow is such an asshole. “I remember. I told you that Byakuya is an exception because the two of us are married and because we went through our transition together, so I trust him.”

“Right. Which is fine. I’m not saying you  _ have _ to let me go down on you or anything, I’m not… I’m really not some fucking creep who expects you to let me use your body how I want to.” He wants to throw up right now. He wants to escape this conversation at all costs.

The fingers in his hair stop. “I know that, Grimmjow. You aren’t at risk of becoming like that, I can reassure you. You’ve been nothing but respectful of my boundaries.”

“And I still want to be! I just… Did I do something? Did  _ we _ do something?” His voice threatens to break and the words keep coming faster, as if Grimmjow might just swallow them all done if he doesn’t spit all of them out right now. Like he might back down and run away for good. “I didn’t think anything of it because I thought Byakuya was the only exception but then Renji, and like, I get it, you know him and trust him but I just, I wondered… I worried. That I’d done something or said something to hurt you because you were so careful about not letting us touch you and you’ve only ever gotten off with clothes still on.”

Ulquiorra sighs softly; Grimmjow knows the sound too well to not know where it’s coming from. “That’s true. The first time was on the couch. But you kept your pants and underwear on.”

“Which is totally fine and I don’t really care as long as we can do  _ something _ for you but I feel so shitty because I’d do… Anything you wanted me to do. I’m not gonna back down because you’re trans, I really mean that. But I feel like…” Grimmjow really wishes the earth would open up right at the edge of the couch and he could just roll into the hole and not have to finish talking about this because every word that leaves his mouth seemingly feels worse than the one before it. “I feel shitty because you do so much for us and we can’t even do anything back and it feels awful to send you home to your husband and boyfriend so you can like, get off better with them.”

Aizen hums softly and Grimmjow winces behind his arm, curls into himself just a little because he knows he should just shut up, just shut up and everything can go away. But it’s too late now, it’s out there and he’s the world’s biggest asshole. He knows it. At least Aizen knows it now.

He can’t quite shut up, is the problem. “I mean I care about you so much and I just want you to be happy with us and to feel like we’re taking care of you, too, like, Dominant or not. But I just, if I said something, or we did something, and you don’t trust us like that, just… I want to know. So we can fix it. Even if you never let us touch you. I just want you to be happy with us.”

“Oh, darling.” Aizen breathes out the word on an exhale and his fingers are wrapped around Grimmjow’s arm, tugging it away from his eyes. “Renji told me you two had a conversation at Las Noches a few months ago, but I never dreamed it was something like this.”

Grimmjow bites down on his lower lip so hard it aches instantly. “I just want you to be happy. And I feel like we did something. That you won’t let us touch you even though we’re your boyfriends and we know you better now. And that makes me feel bad.”

“It’s not you. This is not an issue that involves you at all, actually.” Aizen runs a finger down the bridge of his nose and Grimmjow surprises himself, making a small noise at the gentle touch. “Byakuya at one point was the only exception to the rule. He and I share similar struggles throughout our transition together. He’s never seen me for less than who I am.”

Ulquiorra’s voice is so, so quiet. “Do you mean as… You mean he sees you as a man, correct?”

The delicate way Ulquiorra speaks, the pause in his speech, only really hits home how hard the two of them have been working to make sure they’re always thoughtful in how they speak about Aizen’s identity. Grimmjow does his best because he wants this to work, he wants Aizen to know how much he cares about him and how he sees him for who he is, not who Aizen has never been. Not less than, not other. Just another man in his life that he loves.

But fuck, if he’s made a mistake he’d rather know about it so he can fix it rather than just curl up in a little ball and hope it goes away. He loves Aizen. Oh, fuck, he really loves Aizen,  _ oh fuck _ —

“That is correct. There have been men in the past who… Well, I’ve spoken about that. It can be very much… I’ve had men…” Aizen takes a deep breath and tilts his head back, and Grimmjow presses his cheek against Aizen’s stomach, wishing he could do something to make this easier on him. “You don’t know how hard it can be when a man you’ve brought home to be intimate with is telling you to your face that your genitals are an interesting experience to him.”

The bottom falls out of Grimmjow’s stomach immediately. “Fuck, I’m so sorry… I never… Fuck.”

“That’s fucking awful.” Ulquiorra sets his tablet down on the table a little harder than necessary and Grimmjow winces at the clatter. “An ex said a similar thing but it’s awful to hear always.”

Aizen laughs but the sound is lacking in humor, hollow and cold. “The first time it made me physically sick. I threw up like right after. I’ve never… People are obsessed with trans bodies. I told myself I knew that, I grew up somewhat understanding it. No one ever stops to think about asking questions about surgeries and how much you’ve had done.

Ulquiorra’s breath hitches. “My God, I’m so sorry. I asked questions. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—”

“You weren’t being malicious when you asked, Ulquiorra. So I don’t mind. You weren’t looking at me like an object or a person who hasn’t quite met your standards yet.” Aizen’s fingers are back in Grimmjow’s hair and he presses up into the touch, letting Aizen know he can use Grimmjow as an anchor if he really needs it. “I didn’t mind. I felt like I could just talk openly to you without judgment. You offered to take care of me if I did anything else, you weren’t… Cruel about it. You were just asking a question, and it’s a very refreshing change of pace.”

Grimmjow chews on the inside of his cheek. “That’s shitty because it shouldn’t be.”

“You’re right. It makes me very happy to hear the two of you saying these things. You couldn’t imagine how relieved I am.” Aizen smiles softly down at him and Grimmjow’s heart constricts.

Ulquiorra shifts again and Grimmjow turns to look at him, watches him run slender fingers through his long hair, further disheveling it. “So, if I understand correctly, you were concerned that if we saw you naked, or touched you, that we would stop seeing you as a man.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Grimmjow wants to fucking cry. Renji told him in so many words that this was an Aizen-centric issue, not something they had done wrong necessarily, but he still wants to cry.

Aizen’s affirmation is a soft, sad little laugh. “Yes. Renji and I had had sex multiple times before that instance. He’d just told me he cared about me in his own special way and I told myself that Byakuya would be right there with me. I didn’t have to be afraid of what happened.”

“I feel shitty for bringing it up now,” Grimmjow murmurs. “You shouldn’t have to talk about this with us. You shouldn’t have to tell us all this stuff. It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s a part of my life, Grimmjow. Not an enjoyable part in all aspects, but I’m not ashamed of my identity or the tribulations that have come with it. I overcame all of that and found myself with four partners who care about me, which is more than most people can say.” Aizen’s hand drifts down, fingers shifting to curl against the side of Grimmjow’s face and it takes his breath away how gently Aizen can touch him, how much he feels undone by this alone.

But the words have Grimmjow shifting a little just the same. “I don’t mean you should be ashamed or you can’t talk about it, I just feel like me bringing up this non-issue made you reveal stuff you didn’t want to really talk about right now and that feels unfair.”

“You’re very careful of my feelings, and I appreciate that. But I feel… Better, now that you know. If you understand, you can help when there are bad days.” Aizen strokes a thumb over his lower lip and Grimmjow’s eyelids flutter, the touch doing things to him that no small touch should be able to do. Not like this. “Even if you do not have the experience, having an understanding of it and still seeing me for who I am makes me feel better. Like I can trust you.”

_ Like I can trust you. _ Grimmjow swallows his heart back down when it climbs up his throat and tries to stick there, like it wants to suffocate him with just how much affection, how much  _ adoration _ he has for the man above him. “The only change is that I have so much fucking respect for you because you went through all that and you’re like, the strongest person I know.”

“I share similar sentiments. You’ve been nothing but wonderful to the two of us and you’ve taken excellent care of us. Known how to when we’re in our most vulnerable states.” Ulquiorra fidgets more before standing, coming to sit on the arm of the couch, winding his arm around Aizen’s shoulder and leaning into him. “I thought the same of Byakuya. I still do. That you two can read people so well, and understand them, and know what they need. It amazes me.”

“You flatter me, Ulquiorra. But thank you both.” Aizen exhales heavily and then laughs, and the sound is much lighter, much softer than the ones before it. It makes Grimmjow’s lips quirk up in a smile, sounds more like the Aizen Sosuke he knows. “Thank you for reassuring me that I’m making the right decisions. I never doubted you two for a second, not personally, but enough bad experiences in life will make you frightened of what can sometimes feel inevitable.”

Ulquiorra kisses the side of his head. “Of course. We understand. No one is judging you for it.”

“Never would.” Grimmjow turns his head, kisses the cup of Aizen’s palm and feels so much better about all of this now. “I wanna say something. Something kinda important.”

Aizen hums down at him, taps him on the end of his nose. “Of course, kitten, go ahead.”

Grimmjow takes a deep breath and looks up into Aizen’s eyes— soft and warm and so beautiful a shade of brown, long lashes fanned softly over them— and says it without hesitation. “I love you. I feel so fucking honored that you let us into your life and you trust us enough to talk to us about these things. That you introduced us to your husband and your boyfriend and are giving us this big chance to make things work. I just… I love you. So much.”

“Oh,” Aizen breaths, and Grimmjow reaches up to touch his face because he can, enjoys the soft skin beneath his fingertips. “Grimmjow, I’m—”

Ulquiorra cuts him off, pressing close to him once more. “I love you, too. You have done so much for me that I can’t even conceptualize how to ever reciprocate with anything other than the entirety of my heart. I was so afraid of this when we first met each other, afraid to trust someone this much, but doing so… I feel rewarded. And it makes me love you all the more.”

Aizen closes his eyes and Grimmjow thinks he sees the slightest shimmer of tears before he does so. “Thank you both so much. I want you to know that I love you, too. That you have given me a strength I didn’t have before, and that your trust in me is very much appreciated. You’ve made Byakuya and Renji very happy, too, so I’m grateful for that.”

“I’m glad we ended up having this conversation.” Grimmjow turns to press his face into Aizen’s shirt, the fabric so soft and warm from Aizen’s body heat. “I’m glad we didn’t upset you or something. I really was worried, but I’m glad you’re okay. That everything is fine.”

Aizen’s fingers slip into his hair once more and Grimmjow hums at the contact, nuzzling into his stomach just a little more. “Ulquiorra, I’m going to have to ask a favor of you since you’ve spoken about having exes in the past who are also trans. Please take care of me and make sure that if I look even slightly uncomfortable or upset, you’re there for me.”

“Sosuke?” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft and wavers slightly, and Grimmjow lifts his head, confused at the sudden change between the three of them. Confused at Aizen’s words. “Why are you—”

“Byakuya was there for me when Renji and I did this, so I felt safe. It’s just an added reassurance as I’m still working on being able to handle it alone.” Aizen laughs as if the very idea of that in and of itself is preposterous, but Grimmjow only wraps his arms around Aizen’s waist and hugs him the best he can in this position. “I want you to know I’m not doing this because I feel pressured in any way. I genuinely want this. I want you, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow sucks in a breath and looks up at him, half-pushing himself up from the couch so he can look at Aizen properly. “Are you sure? Because I don’t have to do it. Just… Just knowing that it’s not something we did is enough for me. You can still go at your own pace.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, anyway.” Aizen smiles sweetly at him and then leans back into Ulquiorra’s arm, fingers curling around Ulquiorra’s slender wrist. “The two of you just helped me steel my resolve. You should thank Renji for being the first cis man I’ve ever dated who made me feel confident and safe in my own body enough to trust him with it. He laid the foundation.”

Grimmjow nods frantically, his breathing coming in short little bursts. “I’ll fucking suck his soul out through his dick, believe me. You’re… I can… You really want to do this?”

“Yes.” Aizen spreads his thighs and points one finger at the floor and Grimmjow almost brains himself on the coffee table in order to kneel on the floor faster, his hands almost shaking with excitement. “Just your mouth and fingers to start, but from the looks of it that’s enough for you.”

The comment has Grimmjow grinning from between Aizen’s legs, his hands coming up to rest on Aizen’s knees. “I mean, doing anything for you is enough for me. I just wanna take care of you and show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.”

Ulquiorra nods, pressing a kiss to Aizen’s hair, his cheek, the corner of his mouth until Aizen is flushed and giggling and Grimmjow could die at how sweet they are. “I agree with him.”

“Then feel free.” Aizen lifts his hips and Grimmjow makes a little excited noise, pulling Aizen’s pants and underwear down in one fluid tug of fabric, letting it bunch up near his knees like he’s drawing it out a little for himself. “If you don’t mind, call a spade a spade. It’s my vagina, I’m not so concerned about that logic. Don’t use any cruder words if you can afford not to.

Grimmjow nods, pressing a kiss to the skin just above Aizen’s knee before he tugs the bunched-up fabric the rest of the way down his legs. “You got it. I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable. If you tell me not to do something, then I’m not gonna do it.”

“I’ll drag him off by his ear if he does,” Ulquiorra promises, and Aizen smiles softly.

Aizen steps out of his pants and underwear and Grimmjow just pushes them aside, his breath catching in his throat as he rests his hands on Aizen’s knees, spreading them oh so slowly while Aizen shifts on the couch so that he’s closer to the edge, closer to the promise of Grimmjow’s mouth. One hand twists in the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up his stomach a little so there’s no barriers left and Grimmjow’s heart skids to a stop in his chest.

“You’re gorgeous.” He looks up at Aizen when he says it even as his hands slide up the insides of Aizen’s thighs, parting them wider so he can settle between them, shoulders so broad he really needs the room. Then he thinks about it and shifts one leg up over his shoulder, pulling Aizen just that much closer. “Trust me to give you what you want. I got you.”

Ulquiorra’s fingers soothe through Aizen’s hair, their heads coming to rest together. When he speaks, his voice is a low husky purr. “He’s so eager to please you, look at him. I’ve never seen a man so excited to give and not take in my life, and it’s all for you.”

“Yes.” Aizen’s eyes flutter shut and Grimmjow licks his lips, wetting them in preparation. “Don’t hold back, Grimmjow. If you’ve really wanted this, show me just how much.”

The words go straight to his cock and Grimmjow presses his own thighs a little as he leans forward, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against Aizen’s soft folds. He really is just as beautiful as any of them have ever said and he’s turned on, which makes Grimmjow’s face a little hot. His mouth comes away wetter than it went in and it undoes him just a little, to think that the offer, that his excitement, that Aizen’s resolution to trust him with this started him on the path to arousal before Grimmjow even got his clothes off.

One arm wraps around the leg on his shoulder so he can anchor himself to this moment, to the beautiful reality of Aizen’s soft moans above him as he kisses over him again and again. The kisses grow steadily wetter not only because he swipes uncertainly, quick little flicks of his tongue just to taste the water but because Aizen is enjoying himself, his skin showing up a soft sheen in the light still spilling from the television behind them. With his thighs spread this wide he’s open just enough that Grimmjow can slip his tongue between his labia, groaning at how hot Aizen’s skin is, how wet, how good he feels against Grimmjow’s tongue.

Fingers slip into his hair, urging him closer. Aizen’s voice is a trembling just a little and when Grimmjow looks up at him, he realizes it’s arousal. Aizen is flushed, pupils dilated wide. “Don’t be so shy. You wanted this. Show me how much you wanted to do this for me.”

Grimmjow’s cock throbs hard and he shifts on the floor, slides Aizen’s other leg up onto his shoulder so his head is cushioned by Aizen’s thighs. “You sure? You want me to just go for it?”

“Yes.” Aizen lifts his hips in offering and Grimmjow groans, loud and unashamed, startled when Aizen and Ulquiorra both laugh at him. “You obviously want to, and I’m telling you to do it. Show me how much you love me.”

The order has his eyes widening and then ducking his head. Aizen is slick against his lips and tongue but he doesn’t hesitate this time, parting Aizen’s folds around his tongue, licking up and up over his clit until it throbs hard against the flat of his tongue. It takes concentrated attention, nudging the hood back with careful presses of his tongue because he knows how sensitive it is, how thin. Aizen’s clit is hard against his tongue, throbbing and swollen and Grimmjow makes an appreciative noise, fingers digging into Aizen’s thighs while he sucks.

His idea works how he wants it to; Aizen’s fingers flex in his hair, pulling just enough to make his scalp tingle while his thighs press against Grimmjow’s face. It’s a reflex more than anything purposeful, coupled with Aizen’s sudden sharp little moan, but it tells Grimmjow that if he gets really good at this, really gets going, Aizen will definitely crush his head. And God, he wants it.

Nothing would be sexier and more fulfilling than pleasing this man on his knees and having his head crushed by these powerful thighs because he’s doing a good job.

Grimmjow mouths over him, tongue skating over his entrance just to taste the wetness at its source before he licks back up and over Aizen’s clit once more. He could probably get him off just like this, focusing his attention here but he doesn’t want to. Instead he backs off a little, sucks the wetness off his folds because he’s so greedy and Aizen tastes amazing. Like Grimmjow could spend hours on his knees until they don’t remember how to straighten, until his tongue goes numb and it’s more muscle memory than conscious thought.

Fuck, that would be the hottest thing ever. Maybe they can try it sometime.

“You’re doing so good.” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft and steady in the background, just loud enough that Grimmjow registers it. When he looks up, Ulquiorra’s lips are pressed against Aizen’s ear, his free hand curled reassuring around the side of Aizen’s throat to keep him close. “He’s enjoying you so much, I can tell. All those small noises he makes against you.”

He’s not kidding. Grimmjow is loud and now he really can’t keep his mouth shut, little moans and other excitable noises slipping past his lips the more he gets to touch, gets to lick and kiss and suck between Aizen’s thighs. They tremble and twitch against his cheeks and he purrs, and the vibration against Aizen’s most sensitive nerves has him crying out softly, arching against Grimmjow’s mouth and almost grinding against his face.

He should let Aizen sit on his face sometime, use his mouth and tongue the way he wants. Not let Grimmjow use them at all, just rub against his face until he’s satisfied.

“You just taste so fucking good,” Grimmjow rasps, tongue lashing over Aizen’s clit until Aizen writhes against his mouth, properly pulling on his hair now. The sting is so good, heat that crawls down his spine and coils in his gut, makes his cock that much harder. “You’re so wet and hot and I could spend all night right here in front of you. I’d love to.”

“We’ll do that one day.” Aizen’s legs shift and Grimmjow can feel Aizen’s heels digging into his back, but the pain isn’t  _ really _ pain, it’s an edge of pleasure that he craves when it comes to this man. “Until you can’t speak for days because your mouth is so exhausted.”

_ Fuck. _ Grimmjow can’t help bouncing on his knees just a little at the thought and Ulquiorra’s lips twist into a wicked smile. And then Grimmjow leans in again, mouthing between Aizen’s legs, tongue caressing every part of him before he slips just a little lower, testing how tight Aizen is with just the tip before thrusting inside of him on one wet slide that has him moaning.

He’s allowed to use his hands so he makes use of them now, curling his arm tighter around Aizen’s thigh so he can press against his clit, rubbing in quick and small circles while he licks deeper inside of him, as deep as his tongue can go. He’s gloriously wet inside, tight and hot around Grimmjow’s tongue, his walls twitching and throbbing in time with his breathing. Every part of him is so perfect and Grimmjow is drinking in his reactions, the volume of them. The way Aizen keeps arching against him, silently demanding more.

So Grimmjow fucks him open with his tongue, licks around the edge of his opening before thrusting back inside. He’s so  _ good, _ the flavor of him heavy on Grimmjow’s tongue while he listens to Aizen all but sob above him. It must feel so good, God, Grimmjow hopes it does. Hopes it’s building the heat inside of him steady but sure, bleeding the tension out of his body until he has to trust Grimmjow to give him everything he wants.

When he’s satisfied he’s done everything he can with his tongue he sucks Aizen’s clit again, watching Aizen throw his head back against the couch with the motion. Ulquiorra whispers to him soothingly, kissing his throat but his eyes are down, meeting Grimmjow’s silently.

Aizen is wet but Grimmjow is so careful, just one finger to start, feeling the way his muscles stretch exquisitely around just that. He’s so hot inside it’s almost unbearable but it just means he’s enjoying himself all the more and Grimmjow thrives on that. His dick is still hard but that’s second to Aizen’s moans, Aizen’s soft cries, Aizen’s pleasure. To the way he makes small and desperate little noises when Grimmjow curls his finger up against the spot he knows is there, because he’s done this before, and he’s damned good at everything he does.

“You’re so tight.” He chokes the words out, rubs against that spot until Aizen’s thighs clamp tighter around his head. “God, yes, fucking… Just do that. Just keep doing that.”

“I’m not hurting you?” Aizen’s voice is throaty and blown and Grimmjow could come from the sound of him like this alone, but he has more restraint than that.

He tilts his head enough to swipe his tongue against the inside of Aizen’s thigh, laughing when Aizen squirms; he’s ticklish. “You’re not. I love it so much, don’t stop.”

“He’s serious,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “I’ve done the same thing. Don’t stop, Sosuke.”

Aizen’s thighs squeeze Grimmjow’s head tighter and he’s almost dizzy with how much he’s enjoying this, his mouth moving back into place while he fingers Aizen open as slowly and carefully as he can. It’s a stark contrast to his tongue, licking hard over Aizen’s clit, flicking against it before he soothes it with longer, deeper licks. When there’s no resistance he adds another finger, and he can  _ hear _ how wet Aizen is this close.

The pressure on his head and the hand in his hair keep him centered and focused, his fingers gliding in slow slick strokes while he sucks Aizen’s clit, runs his tongue over the length of it. He’d done some research just in case he ever got to this point because God forbid he walk into this blind. The hormones have lengthened Aizen’s clit and it’s so much easier to use his mouth on it, so much easier to draw out his pleasure until Aizen is choking around sweet sobs and moans.

He’s perfect. He is absolutely the perfect man and they do not deserve him.

“You’re so close.” Ulquiorra’s voice is like rich black velvet, smooth and impossible to ignore. “I can see it in your body language, in how wet his mouth is on you when he stops to breathe. Let him make you come. Let him devour you as you spasm against his mouth.”

“Fuck, Ulquiorra.” Aizen’s thighs tighten that much more and Grimmjow wedges a third finger inside of him, presses up against his spot and sucks  _ hard _ .

When he comes like this, Aizen screams. The sound has Grimmjow’s head spinning and he’s very distantly aware of the fact he’s coming in his pants, cock jolting and jerking at the sound of Aizen’s pleasure, the way he grinds against Grimmjow’s face, squeezes so tight around his fingers. It’s  _ enough _ combined with everything else and it’s perfect and it sets him off faster than anything else ever has, the fact he made this beautiful man scream his name.

Aizen’s legs slide off of his shoulders and they’re boneless, his feet hitting the floor with soft dull thighs as he falls back against the couch, chest heaving. Grimmjow laps the wetness away from his skin as carefully as he can, knowing he’s swollen and sensitive now. He eases his fingers out one by one and before he can do anything about that Ulquiorra leans over, grasps him by the wrist, and brings Grimmjow’s fingers to his mouth.

The sight of Ulquiorra’s small pink tongue curling around his fingers makes Grimmjow’s eyes widen but he lets him, watches his own lashes flutter at the taste.

“Oh, fuck me,” Aizen murmurs, and Grimmjow grins roguishly up at him.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Ulquiorra climbs over him to sit on the couch beside him, pulling Aizen up against his chest, smoothing his fingers through Aizen’s hair, curling the long brown strands around his fingers. “You were perfect. How do you feel? Are you okay?”

Aizen laughs softly at the question but the sound is wet and Grimmjow is moving before he’s even aware of it, moving to bracket Aizen’s body with his own just before the crying starts. “I’m  _ fine. _ I’m just… Emotional. It’s hard not to be, no, don’t, stop, I’m really okay.”

“We’re taking care of you like you do for us,” Grimmjow says seriously, and Aizen hiccups softly.

He brushes the tears away and kisses Aizen, slow and deep kisses that have Aizen leaning into him, fingers linking together behind his neck. Ulquiorra kisses him when Grimmjow leans back and he just looks at the two of them, Ulquiorra’s fingers holding Aizen’s jaw so gently while their mouths move together, a flash of tongue making Grimmjow’s cock twitch once more.

When Ulquiorra looks at him, he raises an eyebrow. “Did you come just from that?”

“Maybe.” Grimmjow shifts a little and Aizen laughs softly, thumbs away a stray tear. “Those are happy tears, right? Because I really don’t want to think I was so bad I made you cry.”

Aizen giggles and the sound is so fucking wholesome that it makes Grimmjow flatten down against him, pressing his forehead against Aizen’s neck. “Yes, darling, they’re happy tears. I suppose the novelty of finding men who love you for who you are never truly fades.”

The fact it’s a novelty at all is sad but Grimmjow kisses his throat. It’s not going to be a novelty anymore, anyway. He’ll spend the rest of his life showing Aizen just how much he loves him. “Good. I really… Thank you. I really enjoyed being able to do that for you.”

“It went well so I think you can do it more often.” Aizen wraps an arm around his shoulders and Grimmjow hums, pressing himself closer, blanketing Aizen’s body with his own because he’s half-naked and Grimmjow doesn’t want him to get cold. “That was… Wow. Thank you, again.”

“You don’t gotta thank me. It was great for me.” He’s still buzzing a little from the experience, the taste of Aizen’s body still heavy on his tongue, scalp still tingling.

Ulquiorra wraps his arms around both of them, seemingly content to be a pillow for now. “I was happy to assist. Next time, we can reverse the roles. Grimmjow and I have different approaches to oral sex and I hope you appreciate the distinction between them.”

“I’m sure I will. I’ve appreciated all of your differences prior to now.” Aizen sighs softly, and the sound is so  _ content _ it sends a little thrill through Grimmjow’s entire body. “I am growing somewhat tired, though. That was satisfying but also exhausting. I can still feel it.”

If he says much more, Grimmjow’s ego is going to need its own room. “I’m so glad. I need to get cleaned up after that, though. My pants are just a little uncomfortably sticky right now.”

“Do you want to come, Ulquiorra?” Aizen asks, tilting his head back to meet Ulquiorra’s eyes.

Oh shit. Grimmjow didn’t even consider that.

Ulquiorra tilts his head, looking thoughtful. “Well, Grimmjow needs a shower so I’ll accost him there and put his mouth to work once more. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to do it.”

“Fuck yes.” Giving head is the best, actually.

Aizen laughs and shakes his head at the two of them before patting Grimmjow’s shoulder, his cue to sit up so Aizen can stand and retrieve his clothes from the floor. His shirt is just long enough to cover his ass and Grimmjow wonders dully what Aizen would look like in one of his sweatshirts the same way Ulquiorra likes to steal them and wear them.

He really is truly ruined over this man, not that he’s complaining.

He and Ulquiorra are up on their feet a moment later and Grimmjow has to kiss Aizen once more, he just  _ has _ to while Ulquiorra sets his tablet to charge and turns off the TV. For a moment it’s just the two of them and Aizen leans into him, curls a hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer and everything in Grimmjow’s body sings at the contact.

They leave Aizen to dress for bed and he makes good on his promise to suck Ulquiorra off, and he loves his boyfriend’s noises just as much. Softer and quieter, rarer because it takes more to draw them out but it’s so rewarding to make him sigh, make him moan and shift, hands braced on Grimmjow’s shoulders for balance. When he comes his knees almost go out on him but Grimmjow holds him up, kisses along his thighs until Ulquiorra can stand on his own once more.

When they finally come back to the bedroom, Aizen is already asleep, cheek cushioned by the pillow beneath his head, chest rising and falling with each breath. Grimmjow spoons up against his back and Ulquiorra curls up against his chest, their hands meeting on top of Aizen’s hip, fingers lacing together as they hold the man between them. And it feels right and good, not like he’s between them but like he belongs right here in their arms.

They whisper  _ I love you _ to each other across him and then Grimmjow echoes the sentiment against Aizen’s hair and hopes he can feel it even if he can’t quite hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i sent myself an interesting goal with this chapter, that i wanted to hit roughly 7k on it to see if i could hit 100k words just past the halfway point of nanowrimo. and i managed to do that, somehow.
> 
> i'm sitting here in complete and utter shock with myself. i've always wanted to be able to write longer things but it's never really just happened naturally until now. thank you all for the continued support.
> 
> this chapter is very special to me. it's the chapter that kind of inspired everything, the scene that popped into my head like any other errant shower story idea but it stuck with me. i had a different plan for nano but this scene is the one that really caused me to throw that plan out the window and write this story instead. i think it's one of the better things i've ever written, and this chapter is definitely up there as one of the best.
> 
> i've mentioned to a few of you that i wanted to write more about shinji after this is over and that holds true, shinji has a story that i want to tell very badly and i'm really attached to his character. but i also have another announcement to make and it might seem silly to make this announcement at chapter eighteen but here we go.
> 
> this story is definitely going to have a sequel. if the ending goes as i hope it sincerely does, as i've planned for it to, then you're going to see our quintet in action again. and i hope you're all there to see it with me.


	19. prospects of the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** none

The familiar set of vehicles that pull up in the wide driveway has Aizen sighing as he neatly arranges the curtains in his bedroom, wincing at the slamming of the doors and the sound of loud conversation already commenced this early in the morning. What does make him smile is a familiar high-pitched feminine voice, proof that Zaraki Kenpachi came bearing  _ some _ good will, bringing the only part of himself that ever makes Byakuya smile. One of these days, they really need to sit down and have that conversation about starting a family after all.

“Hey, Sosuke.” Renji leans heavily against the doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of jeans that seem more tears than actual fabric, his hair tied back but fully wild this morning. “Byakuya told me to come and get you before they all walked into the house and mobbed him.”

“That’s fair. Thank you, Ren. Can you text Grimmjow and ask him where he and Ulquiorra are now?” Aizen gives himself a critical once-over in the mirror and decides to call it done.

Renji nods, catching him around the waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his head as he goes. “I’ll let ‘em know they can just park behind Yumichika’s new car.”

“You’re an angel.” Aizen lingers to steal a longer kiss, letting himself soak in some of Renji’s warm and reassuring energy before he starts downstairs, his skin crawling with nerves about letting Nozarashi into his house after the last incident resulted in  _ plenty _ of issue.

When he told Grimmjow he could arrange his meeting the members of Nozarashi, he had kept true to his word and decided to use it as a surprise for Grimmjow and Ulquiorra’s first weekend here at their house. Going back and forth to their apartment had been easier; Renji is here almost every weekend and Aizen wasn’t ready for either of them to see the way he and Renji are with each other. But after they reassured him that every positive thing he ever thought about them was accurate, it seemed pointless to wait any longer.

Byakuya is perched on the arm of the couch, already looking exhausted even though Aizen knows he’s had at least two cups of coffee this morning. “I think  _ all _ of them showed up.”

“We should have been more specific then,” Aizen muses, pressing a kiss to the side of Byakuya’s head, wrapping his arms around Byakuya’s shoulders and just holding him for a moment. “Well, look on the bright side. Yumichika is at least pretty civil.”

“He is. I’m just worried about Zaraki. If Grimmjow really looks up to him, then I want the experience to go well.” Byakuya groans, scrubbing a hand over his face; Aizen sympathizes.

The sound of the doorbell ringing— a sign that Yachiru reached it first— has both of them moving to the doorway to welcome their guests into their home. This is far from the first time; the first time had been when Nozarashi won their first major award and they wanted to celebrate, and Aizen remembers very little about that night other than waking up the next morning to Unohana chastising everyone for drinking so much and eating so little before.

Byakuya swings the door open and immediately sweeps Yachiru up off of her feet, the girl laughing wildly as she wraps her arms around Byakuya’s neck. “Hello, my sweet girl.”

“Byakun!” Yachiru throws her arms around his neck and clings to him and Byakuya smiles instantly, his hand pressed to her back to keep her balanced since she seems to always bounce with energy when he holds her. “We drove a long time to get here.”

“Indeed you did, and I’m glad.” Byakuya eyes her father coolly over her shoulder and Aizen chuckles, giving her soft pink hair a gentle ruffle. “Zaraki. Have you come to my home to cause me more trouble personally? Because I won’t be having that today.”

The hulking man that steps into their house rolls his eyes, his band mates filing in quietly behind him though the snickering is impossible not to notice. Though Byakuya would never have given up managing Nozarashi for anything in the world— they were his passion project and he’s determined to keep them going— there is no one who doesn’t know about his issues with Kenpachi. The man is a free spirit in the truest sense of the word and he drives Byakuya up the wall on most days, creating an endless host of problems to try to deal with.

Aizen works in PR, after all. He gets to helm plenty of those problems himself.

Yumichika waves his hands in the air— perfectly manicured, nails freshly painted as always. A drop of sunshine in a band that seems hardly composed of such a thing. “Everyone will be on their best behavior, I promise. How are you today, Kuchiki-san?”

“Tired. Having four partners can be exhausting.” Byakuya’s lips quirk up in a smile when Yumichika stops moving, his eyes widening impossibly. “Oh, did that slip?”

Yachiru leans back to look at Byakuya, her wide crimson eyes brighter than they were just a moment before. “Byakun has more boyfriends now! Does So-chan mind?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. They’re my boyfriends, too.” Aizen holds out his arms and Yachiru squeals and almost  _ leaps _ out of Byakuya’s arms to get to him, and the familiar weight of her in his embrace soothes something deep in his soul. He’s  _ always _ appreciated children.

“It’s unfair that you get to have so much fun when  _ I’m _ the one in the band and I’m the one who should have men fawning after me all the time.” Yumichika pouts as he slips off his shoes, fingers carefully smoothing a few stray strands of shiny black hair back into place. “I’m jealous, though. You should introduce me to all of these single men that you apparently know. You both are so greedy, keeping all of them for yourself.”

Byakuya’s eyes narrow at him. “Well with Zaraki’s apparent interest in a certain  _ actor _ I’m afraid of what might happen if he by association meets any actual available men.”

“It was just a minor scandal to spice things up before the new album, princess. You’re too worried about shit like that.” Kenpachi ruffles Byakuya’s hair and his grey eyes flash with pure murder that only makes Kenpachi laugh. “‘Sides, it’s just ‘cause it’s me. If Yumi or Bazz said that shit, no one would have batted a lash about any of it ‘cause those two are just like that.”

Bazz, studying a photograph on the wall that has been recently added— a shot of Aizen and Renji together, one Byakuya snapped when neither of them were paying attention— flips Kenpachi off without even turning to look at him. “I ain’t the one who likes to make trouble.”

“Yet,” Ikkaku adds, and Bazz flips him off too with an annoyed little sigh of a huff.

“I don’t know how you can handle them with Unohana gone,” Aizen admits to the band’s remaining female member; Isane only shakes her head before coming to sling an arm around his shoulders, Yachiru making a delighted little noise at her appearance.

“They’re wild and they aren’t really controllable and they drive me up the wall more often than not, but. They’re my boys.” Isane shrugs a shoulder as if it means nothing more to her, and maybe it doesn’t. “You’ve got enough partners to start a band of your own now, huh?”

Aizen snorts at the prospect. “I’m not much good at the music thing, I just like helping. Renji, on the other hand, is looking to get into the actual music business now. Zabimaru is ready, I think.”

“We listened to what you sent us. We’re pretty onboard but we want to see a live performance first.” Isane winks at him and Aizen nods; Renji is going to be thrilled. “But before then, what’s the special occasion? It’s not often that you invite us over the house.”

“One of my new partners is a fan and I thought it would be enjoyable to surprise him with an introduction like this. He wanted to meet all of you.” More accurately, he wanted to meet Kenpachi, but Aizen has a brain and the good graces not to be like that.

Bazz looks over his shoulder at him, winging up an eyebrow. “That all? Man you know I love peacocking when it counts. Yumi’s gonna try to steal him, though.”

“I haven’t even  _ met _ him yet so let’s stop pretending I’m some awful homewrecker.” Yumichika pouts and then his face lights up as he brushes past all of them to where Renji has just come downstairs, phone in hand. “Renji! I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Ikkaku heaves a sigh and drops down on the couch, shaking his head. “Here we go.”

“What’re these two new men of yours like?” Kenpachi demands, sitting down next to Ikkaku and, predictably, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He at least has the grace not to kick over the books Byakuya has left there today. “I didn’t even know there were two more.”

Byakuya scowls at him but says nothing, half-dragging Aizen over to their favorite chair to squeeze in next to him; Yachiru is content to sit on both of their laps, always ready to bask in the attention of her favorite people. “You didn’t know about them because you didn’t ask.”

“We aren’t readily volunteering the aspects of our personal lives, Zaraki. You know that much. You have to ask if you want to know.” Aizen twists a curl of pink around his fingers and Yachiru beams up at him. “Ulquiorra works as a freelance graphic design artist, he’s very soft-spoken but also blunt and to the point. Grimmjow is a personal trainer and he’s very… He reminds me a lot of Renji but he might be an even bigger puppy, if that were possible.”

The deadpan expression Ikkaku sends him is truly impressive. “So what, are we gonna take bets on who Yumichika wants to steal more? Because I’ll throw money in that pot.”

“You know, the two of you get along well. I’m surprised you’re so gung-ho about making such harsh judgments.” The tone of Byakuya’s voice makes Aizen smile; he sounds like he’s chastising a child instead of talking to a grown adult.

Ikkaku rolls his eyes almost immediately, so maybe the tone is not wrong to take. “He’s a good singer but he’s otherwise unbearable to work with and I wish I didn’t have to.”

“You voted him into the band,” Byakuya says, openly gaping at him.

“Yeah because he can  _ sing _ but as a person he’s regrettable in almost all ways.” Ikkaku thumbs over his shoulder to where Yumichika is trying his best to lean casually against the wall, half-blocking Renji from stepping any further into the room. Full preening; Renji looks like he wants to die in the eyes, his smile not quite reaching them. “You see that? I don’t even have to turn around to know what’s happening. He’s  _ always _ like this and I hate him.”

Kenpachi snorts. “He’s just got an interesting personality, leave him alone. As long as he puts that energy into our performances, I don’t care what else he does with it.”

“As long as he agrees to take the fall for your comments, I love him,” Byakuya says.

The sound of another car pulling up in the driveway grants Renji some reprieve; he half-shoves his way past Yumichika to get to the door. “I got it!”

Aizen doesn’t make any sign to stand up, content where he is, content to watch Renji swing the door open, his arms spread wide for Grimmjow to throw himself into without a moment’s hesitation. The way the two of them cling to each other for a moment makes his heart sing and he smiles softly when Yachiru cheers, clapping her hands together for the two of them. Grimmjow doesn’t even  _ notice _ which is somehow the best part, too absorbed in getting a hug and a kiss before he finally realizes the room is full of people watching him.

And then he seems to realize who those people are, freezing in place.

“Welcome to our humble abode, Grimmjow,” Byakuya calls out. “Come in and meet Nozarashi.”

“There’s no way.” Grimmjow walks slowly into the room like he thinks something might happen at any moment; Aizen can just see Ulquiorra walking into Renji’s arms and covers his mouth with one hand to hide his smile when Renji takes advantage of the noticeable size difference between them, picking Ulquiorra up and spinning him around. “You did  _ not _ do this.”

Renji snorts, hooking an arm back around Grimmjow’s waist, pulling Grimmjow back into his arms. “Yeah, we did actually. Thought it would be a good surprise for you.”

“But this is… A lot.” Grimmjow looks blown away. Yumichika laughs at him.

“It is a lot,” Byakuya agrees. “But it’s for you, so come meet your idols.”

The minute Renji pushes him forward, Grimmjow seems to regain some of his usual air and Renji skirts around the edge of the room, narrowly dodging Yumichika, to come sit on the edge of the chair at Aizen’s side. Yachiru immediately grabs for him and he picks her up with ease, tossing her up in the air and catching her much to her delight by the way she squeals and giggles, asking him to do it again. He’s so good with her, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tosses her and tickles her, never at risk of dropping her.

“He does so well with her,” Byakuya murmurs to him and Aizen nods; he knows where Byakuya’s train of thought is leading as well. “I bet he’d be the best dad in the world.”

The thought makes Aizen’s stomach twist and turn but not painfully, more like that long-stowed excitement he’s always had about the prospect of children. “He probably would be.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Renji asks, cocking his head at them while he holds Yachiru up with one arm and tickles her with the other. “Don’t think I can’t hear you just ‘cause I’m busy with the littlest princess. I can sorta make out that you’re talking.”

Byakuya snorts at him. “We’re talking about how you’d be as a dad, actually.”

“A dad, huh?” Renji looks thoughtful, hoisting Yachiru up when she tries to squirm away, smoothing her hair back absentmindedly, careful not to pull on the clip in her hair. “That’s a thing I hadn’t thought of. Hey, Yachiru, is that a new hair clip? I’ve not seen it before.”

The question has Yachiru perking up, her fingers moving to the clip in question. “Re-chan gave it to me the last time I saw her! Isn’t it cool? She said she got it just for me.”

It looks like something Unohana would have given her, to be quite honest, a small X made of crossbones. Renji looks suitably impressed, straightening it just a little for her. “It’s very punk rock,” he says, and Yachiru beams up at him all over again.

“Maybe a daughter,” Byakuya muses, cupping his chin thoughtfully. “What do you think, Renji?”

“I’m happy with any kid. Girl, boy, nonbinary, it’s all the same to me when it comes right down to it. Long as we love ‘em and support ‘em, that’s all I care about.” Renji holds Yachiru up in the air and she laughs, waving her arms and legs around while Renji tosses her once more. “My only preference is a kid I can wrestle with ‘cause Yachiru here has got me pretty spoiled.”

“She’s ready to kick your ass the next time you fight her,” Kenpachi calls out.

Renji raises his eyebrows, holding Yachiru at arm’s length and looking her over. “Damn, you might be right, Ken. You been packing on the muscle, huh, kiddo?”

Yachiru lands a punch on Renji’s forearm and he actually looks startled at her strength. “I have been! I’m gonna beat you this time. Can we go out in the backyard and play?”

“I’ll go with you to referee.” Aizen kisses the corner of Byakuya’s mouth and stands, and Yachiru giggles and reaches for him. “Byakuya, you’ll need to stay inside to babysit, I’m sure.”

Byakuya makes a face at him. “I’ll remember you did this to me. I want you to know that.”

Aizen blows him a kiss and takes Yachiru, Renji leading the way out to the backyard, whistling to himself as he rounds the kitchen island and swings the backdoor open. The backyard is a massive, fenced-in stretch of beautiful greenery with a few chairs in place for when he and Byakuya decide to lounge out here, and they have more packed away for when people come over. Though they toyed with the idea of installing a pool when they first moved in, the fact they planned on having kids one day quashed the idea for safety purposes during the summer months. It just wasn’t economical to worry about one more thing.

But they take care of the yard, soft lush green grass that Renji sprawls out on on his back, arms stretched out wide, eyes slipping shut under the bright light of the sun. Today is a rarely warm enough day to be outside, as if winter has not actually arrived, but the weather has been strange in recent years and Aizen chalks it up to a whole lot of environmental reasons he does not want to think about. Yachiru distracts him anyway, pouncing on Renji hard enough to knock the air out of him as soon as he sets her down on the ground.

“All right,” Aizen says when Yachiru finally climbs off of him, holding his arms out. They get into position, Yachiru crouched to attack once more. “You know the rules. Nothing dirty. No cheating. Are you both ready to go? Yachiru, are you ready?”

Yachiru bounces in place a little, her cute face focused into an expression of utter determination. “I’m ready to win!” she says, and Aizen honestly believes her.

It also makes Renji grin and he nods when Aizen looks at him. “I’m ready to go, babe.”

“Go!” Aizen swings his arms down and Yachiru tackles Renji at full speed and strength.

He’s bigger than her and stronger than her but he goes down easy, faking a gasp of disbelief as Yachiru manages to pin him on his back in one wild shot. Aizen presses his fingers to his mouth to hide his laughter— it’s not right of a fair and impartial referee to laugh at one of the fighters— but Renji’s performance is hard to ignore. He makes a big show out of rolling Yachiru over, propped up on his forearms so she gets none of his weight and he doesn’t hurt her. The kick she lands on his stomach, though, probably hurts. He sure wheezes like it does.

_ Byakuya’s not wrong, _ Aizen muses, grinning when Yachiru shoves Renji back over.  _ He really would be a great father to any children we had. _

The door opens behind him and he only half-turns to see Ulquiorra slipping outside. “It’s a bit crowded in there and— Oh, she really is going to destroy him.”

“At least I’ve got three more men,” Aizen quips, and Ulquiorra smiles softly at him, coming to stand at his side, tucking himself up under Aizen’s arm like he belongs there.  _ He does. _ “Yachiru and Renji have been competing to see who’s the better fighter ever since they met.”

Ulquiorra arches an eyebrow. “Has he ever actually beaten her?”

“No.” Aizen grins when Ulquiorra giggles. “She’s a terror, that one. Just like her father.”

“Which is Zaraki Kenpachi.” When Aizen nods, Ulquiorra clears his throat just a little. “So, then, I’m curious because I’ve not heard of the man having had a woman as his romantic partner before. What happened to Yachiru’s mother?”

Aizen hums softly; it’s a common enough question, and he wouldn’t answer it if Kenpachi hadn’t made it clear  _ long ago _ that he didn’t want to cover up the truth. That he loved Yachiru no matter what and he wanted her to know just how special she was to him just the way she is. “He adopted her, actually. Nozarashi did some work with an orphanage and child care facility in Kenpachi’s hometown and they bonded while we were there. He didn’t want to leave her behind. Quite a few people assumed she was his and Unohana’s secret love child.”

“That’s really moving and sweet, actually. Adoption’s just as valid as anything else.” Ulquiorra gives his arm a tug and Aizen tilts his head, his eyes fixed on where Yachiru is now attempting to maybe break Renji’s arm. “Have you and Byakuya talked about children before?”

_ It might be too early to have this conversation with you, darling. _ “We have. We’re still thinking about the finer details, though. For now, we’re content just to have Yachiru in our lives.”

Ulquiorra smiles softly at that. “I suppose you would be her honorary uncles.”

“Hey!” Yachiru calls out to them from her place perched on Renji’s chest, looking sufficiently triumphant. “Count him out because I just beat him.”

Aizen does their mock count and Yachiru cheers, running around the yard with her hands raised over her head. It’s only when she notices Ulquiorra watching her that she stops. “Who are you?”

For just a moment, Ulquiorra stiffens. Then he walks up to her and kneels down, holding out his hand to her, all long pale fingers. “My name is Ulquiorra Cifer. I’m one of Sosuke’s and Byakuya’s boyfriends. I’ve been told you are a very fierce fighter, little lady.”

The sweet talk is enough for Yachiru to decide she likes him, which means Ulquiorra has to pick her up and because he’s new to the house, she demands he walk her around the backyard so she can show him every nook and cranny that she knows by heart. Renji sits up on the grass, one knee loosely drawn up to his chest. There’s dirt stains on his clothes and smudges on his skin but he looks unbothered, picking a few blades of glass out of his hair before flashing Aizen an incorrigible smile that always makes him feel warm.

“C’mere.” Renji wraps a hand around Aizen’s calf and gives a slight tug, and when Aizen steps forward, Renji throws his arms open once more. “Just fall into me. I’ll catch you.”

It’s a little strange to just fall forward but Renji does catch him, arms around his waist, falling back into the grass gently with Aizen on top of him, hugged securely against his chest. Aizen hums and presses his face against the front of Renji’s throat, pressing a kiss to the skin there while he traces one of the dark tattoos on Renji’s arm with a finger. When he sits up properly, straddling Renji’s stomach, he finds Renji’s bent his knees so Aizen can rest his back against them and chuckles down at him.  _ Always such a considerate man when it counts. _

“Not ready to have the kid talk with him yet?” Renji asks, holding his hands out.

“They’re both new to this. It’s not time.” Aizen takes his hands, twines their fingers together— softer and smoother against callused and rough. “One day, though. I’m not going to wait on having a family forever. I’ve already waited long enough to get to this point.”

Renji hums thoughtfully, pulling Aizen’s hands down, just holding onto them. “That’s fair. I wouldn’t expect either of you to, honestly. You were joking around about kids when I first met you two so like I was fully expecting to get kicked out so you could adopt like. A baby.”

“That’s still the plan one day,” Aizen tells him, and Renji looks wounded until he leans down to kiss him, adding against his lips, “minus the kicking you out part. Since you want kids too.”

“Well thank God because I’d kill to see you and Bya with some little ones. Can’t think of any guys who’d raise kids in a loving home that teaches acceptance better than you do.” Renji winks at him and Aizen chuckles, settling back against his thighs once more. “I never thought I’d be talking about kids in my twenties before I even got the band really going.”

Aizen nods; he understands the feeling. “You’ll still have time to get the band going. Nozarashi wants a live performance but otherwise I think they want you to go tour with them.”

“We’ve got time with their new album not being out yet even so I’m not gonna rush. Funny considering I wanted on your label like ASAP even a few months ago.” With a small shrug, though, Renji grins. “There’s just… So many reasons to hang around right now.”

“We’ll miss you when you do have to leave with them. I’m used to you just popping over to the house whenever you want to these days.” He hasn’t even been asking Byakuya for permission first anymore, surprising them at any odd moment he can seem to find.

Renji’s grin deepens into a full-on smirk. “Bet you’re gonna miss me for a few reasons, huh?”

“That’s an awful thing to say when Yachiru is here and you know it.” But Aizen’s voice holds no real venom and he finds himself brushing a thumb over the edge of a tattoo peeking out from under Renji’s shirt collar. “But yes, of course. You know… We’d have to talk to Byakuya about it, obviously, but have you considered moving in? We aren’t that far from your bar.”

In response, Renji hums up at him. “Yeah, I was gonna wait until one of you brought it up though since it’s not my house. You sure you want my loud ass around twenty-four seven?”

“You’re around so much now I can’t imagine it being much different. I happen to enjoy your company. You make me very happy.” The comment has Renji flushing just slightly under the rich golden brown of his tanned skin and Aizen beams, overly proud of himself.

He isn’t expecting the moment when Renji suddenly flips him over, but his back hits the ground softly and then Renji is on top of him, keeping his hands pinned to the grass above his head. “Then I guess he just gotta convince Bya it’s a good idea to let me move in and take up a whole guest room of yours. You might have to give up that pretty office space of yours.”

“Sometimes you can be especially dense but I don’t think you mean it.” Aizen leans up to kiss him, and Renji smiles against his lips, kissing him back with a gentleness and a warmth that only Renji seems to be fully capable of. Like the contrast of such a strong and masculine man being this tender is novel in and of itself. “You’ll share our bedroom if you move in. Which will be disastrous for Byakuya given how much you seem to enjoy oral in the morning.”

Renji snorts down at him. “Now who’s talking about inappropriate things when the kid is around?” He looks up and Aizen follows his gaze to Ulquiorra, standing near the corner of the fence with Yachiru where the largest tree grows, the branches almost bare of leaves but not quite. “But yeah. He would be. And so will you. I can do two in one go, you know. My jaw might be feeling it for a while but it’ll be good exercise for singing.”

Aizen snorts. “That sounds like some awful thing you stole from Yumichika.”

“It is,” Renji confirms, and Aizen muffles laughter against his collarbone. “He said he’d blow his boyfriend every morning to train his throat or some such bullshit. He’s… Something. He’s great but it drives me up the wall how much he flirts with me. I’m just not interested in him.”

“You’ve got enough pretty boyfriends to keep you occupied, hmm?” Aizen asks sweetly.

The fierceness in Renji’s expression when he looks down at him shocks him just a little. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m not interested in him. I got you and Bya, and I got Grimm and… What does Grimmjow call him, Quiorra? That’s not how I would have shortened his name.”

“Byakuya used a different nickname for him and he said it made him uncomfortable, so that’s the only acceptable one,” Aizen murmurs. He and Byakuya had paused when Ulquiorra said that, but the two of them… Understand a sensitivity about names far too well.

“Ah, I see. Quiorra it is.” Renji lets go of his hands so he can take Aizen’s face in them instead, brushing a few wisps of hair back from his face. “Anyway, I got four beautiful men that I fucking  _ adore _ and I don’t really need anyone else. And Yumichika’s not really my type.”

That doesn’t necessarily seem like the truth, but the sentiment is sweet just the same. “You’ll have to let him down gently or he’s going to kick you off the tour.”

“Another PR nightmare for you to handle.” Renji snorts when Aizen groans at the thought, leaning down to brush a kiss over his lips once more. He lets himself slip just a little, pressing Aizen down into the grass. “I wouldn’t mind putting some romance scandal to bed by telling the press about all my pretty men, though. Can you  _ imagine _ how jealous our male fans would be?”

“I can imagine. The female fans won’t even care because all they do is look at Nel,” Aizen muses; her charm is undeniable. No one has been able to escape it.

Renji chuckles and kisses him again, and Aizen lets his eyes slide shut, drinking in the warmth of Renji’s lips, the gentle press of his body and the weight on top of him. This would have been surreal months ago before Renji’s confession but now it feels right, having this man on top of him and showing him such tender affection just casually in their backyard. Aizen runs his fingers through Renji’s ponytail, down the back of his neck until he shivers.

Ulquiorra’s dry voice breaks their little moment. “Yachiru wants to go back inside now and have a snack. I’ll take care of her if you two want a moment alone.”

“So-chan and Renji are  _ kissing, _ ” Yachiru says gravely, as if to underline the import of this.

Aizen is about to tell them that no, it’s fine when Renji clears his throat. “Yeah, Quiorra, if you don’t mind taking care of her for a minute, that’d be great. You’re a total angel.”

The nickname seems to throw Ulquiorra off for a moment before he nods, shifting Yachiru on his hip. “Of course. Come back inside when the two of you are done, erm, kissing, then.”

When the door closes, Aizen raises an eyebrow at Renji. “Why is he babysitting her for us?”

“Could get him used to being around kids so he’s ready to have ‘em with us when we decide that’s what we wanna do and maybe I also wanna keep you to myself for a minute.” Renji’s grin is awful and Aizen squirms under the heat of it, the weight of Renji’s stare. “I just… Damn, I can’t wrap my head around this still. I feel too damned lucky. You really want me to move in?”

_ What? Is he still fixated on this? _ “Yes, of course. You said yourself you wanted to move out of your apartment eventually and it just seems natural that you’d come to stay with us.”

“This big beautiful house with my two hot guys. I’m sure there’s a song or three in there somewhere and I’m gonna find them. But until then.” And then Renji leans down to kiss him again, and Aizen forgets about the prospect of  _ more _ songs for a moment.

His stomach gives an excited little kick at Renji’s words, that he feels just as lucky to be here with him and Byakuya, that this is just as magical for him as it is for them. Aizen’s been feeling it this entire time it seems and he feels so warm down to his core to know Renji looks at him and feels the same way even though that’s the most logical thought to come up with. And the way Renji touches him and holds him and kisses him even out here where anyone could walk out back and see them just proves how unashamed and happy he is about all of this.

When he leans back, his eyes are heavily lidded and he laughs a little, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me, jumping you like this. Guess I just couldn’t help myself where you’re concerned. Let’s go back inside before the others talk.”

Aizen hums thoughtfully and loops his arms around Renji’s neck, raising an eyebrow at him. “The last you can do is carry me inside since you mauled me on the ground like this.”

He doesn’t expect Renji to acquiesce but he should, squeaking in surprise when Renji manages to pick him up with ease and carry him back inside. But he leans into the embrace and soaks it in and thinks, just for now, that everything is finally as perfect as he could hope for it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably surprisingly soft and fluffy for the nature of this story but idk i just wanted a) nozarashi to finally show up and have some nice fun times and b) something soft and sweet for these boys who deserve it. can't promise it's going to stay this way but i hope you guys like this little breath of pure happiness for them.
> 
> also kids huh. eyes emoji x7.


	20. a reassurance is all i need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** none

Life, Ulquiorra has discovered, can become profoundly complicated and simplified all at once.

He would hardly have believed it if anyone would have told him he would be seated in a dining room with the members of Grimmjow’s favorite rock band on either side of him, would not have believed it if someone told him he might end up in a relationship with multiple people and not feel mildly sick to his stomach every time he thinks about it too hard. When it came to his trust issues, they ran far and deep and though Grimmjow overcame those obstacles in order to make a relationship work with him, most were not willing to put in the effort. Ulquiorra never blames them because he knows firsthand just how awful he can be at his worst.

“You look so damned sad every time I look at you.” The man sitting next to him elbows him in the ribs so suddenly he jolts in his seat, almost knocking over the glass of wine sitting next to his plate in the process. “What’s it take to make that pretty face of yours cheer up some?”

A hand shoots out and catches the glass, delicate fingers righting it. “Bazz! What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t be so rough at the dinner table.”

“Shut up, Yum, I’m not doing anything wrong.” Green eyes far more expressive than Ulquiorra’s own bore into his face, as if trying to look right through him. “So, what’s it take, then?”

“I’m not sad at all.” He probably doesn’t sound all that convincing, his voice more naturally inclined toward a flat and monotone way of speaking, but he manages a small smile.

Bazz’s eyes narrow and he leans in closer, almost close enough for Ulquiorra to consider leaning away from him, though he stops when he realizes he might bump into Yumichika by accident in the process. “All right. I’ll trust you just this once, pretty boy.”

“Someone’s flirting and it’s not me for a change,” Yumichika quips. “Sorry, there, Ulqui—”

Ulquiorra cuts him off quickly. “I’m sorry, but I do not much care for that nickname.”

“Noted, Ulquiorra. My apologies.” Yumichika leans in against him for a moment and Ulquiorra thinks it might be his way of saying sorry; he seems like a touchy person, after all. “Sorry for not flirting with you myself, but twinks aren’t really my type. I like bigger buff men. Like you seem to.”

Instead of feeding into the comment, Ulquiorra cuts himself another piece of chicken and chooses to pay attention to his food. This entire day has been different than anything he has ever experienced before; the apartment had been tense unless Orihime was there as Ulquiorra never got along with anyone else they lived with and even isolating himself in his own personal bedroom never seemed to make up the difference. He thinks it should feel similar now, in some way, but the warmth and the camaraderie is impossible to ignore.

Across the table, Renji catches his eye and tips him a wink. He tries to ignore his own flush.

“You should bring Yachiru over more often if you need a babysitter,” Byakuya pronounces, brushing the girl’s hair back off of her forehead while she seems more interested in her food than listening to the conversations going around. “You don’t need to come around, though.”

Kenpachi snorts, pointing his fork at Byakuya in a gesture that might have seemed more threatening in any other context. “You act like such a princess but you still hang with us.”

“You are merely connected to the rest of the band and this lovely girl. I could take or leave you. Especially the leaving part.” Byakuya sniffs, but Kenpachi only laughs at him.

“So, uh, not to be nosy or anything but…” Grimmjow trails off and Ulquiorra smiles down at his plate.  _ Ah, so you decided to be brave after all. _ “Look, I’m sorry if bringing up the drama at all is just a massive sore spot, but that comment you made about Starrk. Real or a joke?”

For a seemingly endless moment, Kenpachi studies Grimmjow up and down before leaning over, clapping him on the shoulder so hard his entire body seems to jolt from the sudden pressure. “Very real. Just between you and me, I don’t have a gender preference. I’m bi.”

Grimmjow looks prepared to swoon. “This is fucking amazing. The dude I thought I’d be looking up to and never meeting for my entire life is bi just like me. I’m gonna die.”

“Never thought much about coming out officially since Nozarashi’s already involved with whatever LGBT stuff around we can get involved with. Figured people just would realize it, but after that shit storm, I’m rethinking it.” Kenpachi heaves a sigh and Ulquiorra echoes the sentiment; it isn’t easy. It should be easier, but in their lifetime, it is not likely to become all that much easier. “Any rate, hopefully it goes better than that comment did.”

“We can handle it more honestly at least so it’ll be easier on that front,” Aizen says helpfully.

Renji leans back in his chair, arms stretched over his head and maybe Ulquiorra’s eyes shamelessly crawl over the strong lines of his torso, the bulge in his arms. “Zabimaru is gonna save ourselves the trouble and just be out from the very start. Nel said we should do pride shirts on our first album cover but Kaien’s just gonna be a big fucking question mark.”

“What’s the question mark for?” Ulquiorra asks, cocking his head to the side.

“What  _ isn’t _ it for?” Renji shrugs and Ulquiorra hums and nods thoughtfully; there are lines that are easy to blur and harder to understand, so he can wrap his mind around that. “He’ll figure it out in time, I guess. Hey Sosuke, Bya, I meant to ask. You guys care if I bring Kaien and Nel to Las Noches next weekend? They’re both itching to finally have the official introduction.”

Isane whistles. “The infamous BDSM sex club. You should do pride shirts and like, kink stuff.”

Renji looks thoughtful. “You know, that might not be such a bad idea after all.”

“You should be able to bring them,” Aizen says, phone out and on the table, no doubt checking whatever dates he already has pencilled in so he can work his schedule around if need be. It’s a quality Ulquiorra appreciates and one he himself has been mocked for in the past. “Nothing special is happening over that weekend, so it’ll be a perfect time. I’ll let Halibel know.”

Bazz clears his throat. “Do you all have to work the same nights as each other, or?”

Byakuya shakes his head. “No, Bazz, we typically work whatever hours our respective jobs allow and what makes sense for us. But when it comes to new people that we personally care about, we try to have everyone onboard just in case something bad happens.”

“Smart,” Yumichika quips. “When do  _ we _ get to come to Las Noches?”

A slight silence drops over the table and Ulquiorra raises his eyebrows, gaze flickering between the members of Nozarashi and his own partners as he tries to puzzle together what might have been wrong in that question. It might even have been a joke for all he knows; it might be stressful to have famous people in the club, but surely nothing has happened that might make it a genuine sore spot for anyone in this room. But when Byakuya only clears his throat a little and shakes his head, Ulquiorra feels like he’s missing a piece of the puzzle.

And he is very tired of not communicating effectively. “Is it hard with the press and whatnot?”

“I was in the night club once because I had to talk to princess about something before we went on tour and that was our worst scandal,” Kenpachi says simply, and Ulquiorra’s mouth falls open just a little at the thought. “And that was just the club. Just drinks at the bar so we could talk about the fact Unohana wanted to leave soon. The press got pictures and it was bad.”

Aizen sighs, picking up his glass, staring into the pale contents quietly. “I remember that. It’s not exactly possible to hide that Byakuya and I own the club, but it was different for Kenpachi to be there. It… There were suggestions that he and Byakuya were behaving unprofessionally.”

“Shit,” Grimmjow murmurs, “I know what you’re talking about now. It took me a minute ‘cause… I mean, not to sound like a dick, but there’s been a lot of scandals.”

Bazz toasts as if this is a compliment. “That’s our band all right, my man. All we do is cause trouble and play music. But yeah, that one almost ruined us, I think.”

“There was a very,  _ very _ long period of time afterward where I didn’t appear publicly with them despite the fact I was their manager. The first time I didn’t go to any of the shows on their tour.” Byakuya’s voice adopts a hard edge at the memories, fingers moving through Yachiru’s hair once more. “I’ve never been accused of something like that in my life. I could have lost my job and Nozarashi would have suffered for it. It wasn’t fair to anyone involved.”

The tension in the room is thick and instinctively, Ulquiorra feels awful for even bringing it up. He shoves the last piece of chicken into his mouth and quickly swallows down the rest of his wine to make it go down faster. “I see. Well, I am sorry to disappoint, but it’s been a long day and I am very tired, so I think it’s time for me to go to bed. Where are we sleeping?”

“Where… Excuse me?” Aizen furrows his eyebrows, then sighs softly. “Oh, that’s right, accommodations. You can stay in our room unless you have a problem with it.”

“No, that’s fine. Again, I apologize. It was lovely meeting all of you today.” He rounds the table to kiss Yachiru on the top of the head, which delights her. “I’ll see you again soon, my lady.”

Escaping the room to minimize the damage of his own mistake may not be the healthiest reaction to such a thing, but he obviously picked at a very sore spot and everyone is in a good mood, so best to make sure that continues. He still feels odd walking into the bedroom Aizen and Byakuya share with one another, studying the bed quietly as he shuts the door behind him.  _ Their marriage bed. _ It almost feels wrong to be in here and he wonders if he could get away with sleeping in a guest bedroom after all, maybe citing the mattress being uncomfortable to him.

_ Deep breaths _ . Ulquiorra closes his eyes, following his own advice until his breathing is calm and his mind has been soothed somewhat.  _ Sosuke told you to stay here because he wants you here. No reason to run away from them a second time tonight. _

He no sooner has his sweater up and over his head, folding it carefully to lay over the dresser, when the bedroom door swings open and closes behind him. “Hey, Quiorra, sorry if you were coming up here to sleep alone for a bit but I’m kinda tired out from wrestling.”

“It’s fine, Renji.” Ulquiorra looks at him, watches Renji pull his shirt off with such careless grace before he takes the elastic out of his hair, spilling riotous red everywhere, down his back and around his shoulders. “Did you come up here to check on me?”

Renji’s movements still for just a moment and then he sighs, giving a brief nod. “Yeah, I did. You ran off after asking that question and I could tell you weren’t happy about what happened.”

“It was evidently not a conversation anyone wanted to have and I shouldn’t have pried.” Ulquiorra did not think hard enough about what sleeping over meant when Byakuya asked him in the kitchen if he and Grimmjow planned on spending the night tonight.

They both said yes. And he has nothing to sleep with.  _ Damn it, I should have thought about it. _

Strong arms wrap around him from behind and he yelps softly, startled by the sudden contact and the warmth of Renji’s skin against his own. Soft lips brush against his ear and he shivers at the faint touch. “Stop worrying about it. Yumichika’s the one who mentioned it at all in the first place, ain’t nothing wrong with being curious. No one’s mad at you, baby.”

“No one?” Ulquiorra leans back against his chest and he feels so  _ small _ when it comes to Renji, whose size and presence alone seem to dwarf him. “Byakuya seemed especially upset.”

Renji hums, rocking on his heels, Ulquiorra’s body moving with his. “About the situation that you asked about, not at you. It sucked. I was there. All they did was talk and the tabloids blew it up. Nozarashi means a lot to him so almost losing it while having his name smeared was upsetting.”

“It still feels like I did a bad thing by even asking,” Ulquiorra murmurs.

He finds himself being spun around, Renji’s hands resting on his bare shoulders as the larger man leans down just a little so their eyes connect. “You did nothing wrong. No one is mad at you. I just came up here to make sure you were okay. And to get you to myself for a bit.”

“Ulterior motives,” Ulquiorra murmurs, running his hands over his bare arms.  _ It’s cold in here. _

“Looks like you need me to warm you up, huh?” Renji’s smile turns wicked and Ulquiorra can’t help a little smile, ducking his head. “God, you’re so fucking cute when you’re being shy.”

Evidently, Ulquiorra weighs nothing to him. If the way Renji picks him up around the waist and  _ throws _ him onto the mattress is any indicator, it must be not much different than tossing Yachiru.

“I can’t get over it, honestly. Sometimes you’re so forward and blunt and I’m so into that but then if one of us looks at you a certain way or says something sappy you get all blushy and shy about it. I remember you laughing at me on the phone when I was being a dumbass.” Renji is on top of him a moment later, and he  _ jumps, _ and Ulquiorra braces himself for the impact.

It never comes. Renji lands on his hands and knees and then leans down to kiss him, his hair tickling Ulquiorra’s face and neck and chest where it falls down against his skin. There’s just so  _ much _ of it that he can’t possibly keep his hands to himself, threading his fingers through the soft long locks while Renji explores the inside of his mouth with his tongue before pressing it against Ulquiorra’s own, almost massaging it. The sensation is wet and sloppy and makes him whimper.

When Renji leans back, he has a self-satisfied expression on his face. “You’re blushing.”

“Am I?” Ulquiorra swallows hard, remembers something like this— Had Byakuya told Renji about their scene together? He must have. “Must just be my body warming up.”

“Glad to know I can warm you up.” Renji smirks and Ulquiorra groans at his words.

He’s still cold, though. “I should have brought something I could wear to bed.”

“What do you normally wear to bed?” Renji runs a hand down his bare chest and Ulquiorra shivers at the comment, bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a soft moan when Renji’s rough palm runs over one of his nipples, hypersensitive from the chill.

“Long sleeves. Sometimes a sweatshirt. I get cold at night easily and if I do, I wake up.” He can’t count how many times he’d woken up just to put on pants, or socks, or turn the heat up in the room. “Sometimes pajama pants and socks, too. It’s just a recurring issue.”

Renji’s features soften considerably. “Poor babe. We’ll have to make sure you sleep on the inside of the bed and not the inside so we can keep you nice and warm.”

He kisses Ulquiorra a final time before he slides off of the bed and approaches the closet, swinging it wide open and stepping inside. It takes Ulquiorra a few minutes to process that the closet is a walk-in— of course it is, this house is massive— and then Renji steps out of it, a few articles of clothing draped over one arm. He rounds the bed and approaches the dresser, rifling through one of the drawers before pulling something out. Only then does he come back to the bed and Ulquiorra feels hot all over when he realizes Renji has brought him clothes.

“They’re mine ‘cause I can just imagine how much you’d object to me bringing you Sosuke’s clothes, or Bya’s, without asking them first.” Renji rolls his eyes as if Ulquiorra is the most unreasonable person in the world, then crooks a finger at him. “Come here. I’ll help you dress.”

“I can dress myself, you know,” Ulquiorra reminds him, already sliding across the bedspread.

Dark crimson brows dark up. “And? I don’t really care. You’re gonna probably get sick of it but I love taking care of the people I love, and that includes you now. So let me finish undressing you and then get you wrapped up nice and warm. Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Ulquiorra swings his feet when he reaches the edge of the bedspread. “The big spoon.”

“Not tonight.” Renji has his jeans off in seconds, which is impressive. “All these clothes are gonna be way too big on you, I just realized. That’s so fucking cute. I can’t stand it.”

Though Ulquiorra would have fought anyone else on this, he lets Renji dress him like a doll, lifting his hips so Renji can pull the pajama pants up around his waist, lifting his arms to help slide the sweatshirt over his head. Insufferable man that he is, Renji even kneels so he can put the socks— soft, impossibly fluffy— on Ulquiorra’s feet, pressing a kiss to one of his ankles before he stands back up. Goosebumps dart up Ulquiorra’s entire leg.

Something dark flashes in Renji’s eyes, and Ulquiorra frowns at him. “What is it?”

“You know, I’ve been doing this poly thing for years now and I thought I’d get used to like, the different stages. But I’m really not used to it.” Renji laughs when Ulquiorra’s eyebrows only furrow, not sure he’s keen on the direction of this conversation until Renji relents and explains himself better. “Seeing you dressed up in my clothes has me standing here and fully realizing that you’re  _ mine, _ too. And that’s always like, a weird little thing to go through.”

“Oh, I can understand that.” Ulquiorra feels small and awkward, lays back on the mattress and stifles a yawn against his palm.  _ It’s been such a long day. Too long for such confessions. _

Renji snaps into action, pulling back the top of the bedspread. “Let’s get you into bed and wrapped up and nice and warm so you can sleep. I’m honestly not that tired but I came up here to spend the night with you so I’ll just make sure I lay real still until you fall asleep.”

“We can do something together tomorrow maybe. I feel like I’m not much of an interesting companion if all I’m doing is using you as a furnace.” It takes a monumental effort to crawl toward the top of the bed and all of the pillows piled up there.  _ Who the hell needs like ten pillows on a bed for three people? How do they handle all of this laundry? _

As soon as he settles down, Renji is at his back, pulling the bedspread up over them. And it’s not just  _ one _ bedspread but multiple ones and a top sheet, which explains why the room itself feels unnecessarily cool. It might be unbearable to walk through the room with it being this cold and preparing for bed is probably a nightmare, but having the heat up too high with all of this bedding might result in out and out overheating.

Not that Ulquiorra would mind. He feels too cold all the time.

Renji’s body fits neatly around his own, his chin coming to rest on Ulquiorra’s shoulder while he wraps his arms around him, catching Ulquiorra’s hands in his own to rub heat into his still-cold fingers. “You really do get cold easy, huh? I’ll make sure you stay warm, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’re doing a good job right now.” Ulquiorra can’t help but lean back into Renji’s arms and chest, feeling Renji’s legs neatly bent to fit in against his own. “This is nice.”

Grimmjow prefers to be held and Ulquiorra has no real preference, more of a habitual sleeping pattern than anything else; stretching himself just the littlest bit to cover Grimmjow’s inches of extra height has never been a real enough problem to make the position difficult. If they fall asleep any other way, it’s usually Grimmjow on his back and Ulquiorra half-sprawled on top of him, taking advantage of his warmth. This is… More like how he slept in  _ that _ bed and he presses his lips together, logically telling himself not to compare the two.

_ You didn’t like that bed or the sleeping arrangement, _ he thinks, running his fingers over Renji’s knuckles, tracing a scar across one of them.  _ This is pleasant. He just wants you to be warm. _

Renji’s lips brush against the side of his throat and he sighs softly, eyes drifting shut. “Can I just tell you something real quick? It feels kinda like I should be saying it now.”

“Of course.” He can stave off fatigue long enough for Renji to say what he has to say.

And if it takes his thoughts off of the past, then even better, right?

“I’m glad you and Grimm decided to give this a shot ‘cause I know Sosuke really loves you two and Byakuya cares a whole hell of a lot, too.” Renji’s arms tighten around him just enough to be noticeable and Ulquiorra tries to pretend he has not forgotten how to breathe. “Give me time and I’m sure I’ll get there for real. But spending time with you guys today has been great and I just guess I’m real grateful for you two being around. It’s a damned good feeling.”

Ulquiorra blinks a few times, his face burning hot as he processes Renji’s words, the open and blunt honesty in them that sinks into his veins warm and heavy, carrying that emotion right to his heart. “Thank you, Renji. And please do take care of me.”

“Of course I will. You don’t even need to say it.” Renji noses the back of his neck, kisses it through the fall of his hair. “Nothing in this world would make me happier.”

Having someone say that to him makes Ulquiorra’s heart do small cartwheels in his chest and he wonders how he and Grimmjow could have come to that part. Part of him wonders if this is luck, or if this is just repayment for what the two of them have gone through in the distant and far more recent past. If the universe, instead of punishing them, sought out to reward them.

It certainly feels like it from time to time.

So he chances just this small thing, staring down at Renji’s hands. “I was in a relationship like this once. It didn’t go so well for everyone involved. By which I mean me. It was bad for me.”

“Ah, baby, that’s the way it goes sometimes, huh?” Renji doesn’t even seem to mind the confession and Ulquiorra breathes a sigh of relief, sinking down further into the mattress. “It ain’t easy. It takes time to get acclimated to it, and you always gotta deal with jealousy aspects from time to time if someone feels left out. But it’s like… Nothing’s ever made me happier.”

_ Nothing has made me as happy as this has either, Renji. _

Renji seems intent on kissing every bare inch of skin he can manage, lips tracing over where Ulquiorra’s pulse begins to pound from the touch of Renji’s mouth. “You are so damned beautiful and sometimes you look so fucking sad and it just breaks my heart. I dunno what happened but I wanna wrap you up safe and warm and make you laugh like you did on the phone that one day. Stupid as it might sound, that was the first thing I thought then.”

The sentiment is so cheesy that Ulquiorra squeezes his eyes shut, not willing to bare the brunt of this. “How dare you say something so cliche and clearly stolen from a romance film.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever watch romance films when they’re so boring and unrealistic.” Renji’s fingers slip just under the bottom of his sweatshirt, just resting against the warm bare skin of Ulquiorra’s stomach like they belong there. “But I’m serious. You laughed at me and I was like wow, that’s such a pretty sound. I hope he laughs all the time just like that.”

“If you keep making a fool out of yourself and give me material, I might laugh,” Ulquiorra says.

“Sassy, too. I love that.” Renji’s embrace tightens once more and Ulquiorra sighs, content like this, wrapped in his strong arms and sinking into the soft pillows and mattress. “Your personality just appeals to me a lot. And Yachiru fucking loved you today, she was so into the art you were doing with her. You’d be fucking amazing with kids, I bet.”

The mention of children has Ulquiorra lifting his head just a little, forcing himself to stay awake now that he can feel the shift in the conversation. “Do the three of you want children?”

“I don’t care one way or another, I’m good with anything, so I’m not a good person to have this conversation with.” Renji kisses the back of his neck again and Ulquiorra shivers. “We’ll just have to burn that bridge when we come to it, I guess.”

Ulquiorra furrows his eyebrows. “That is not how that expression goes at all.”

“Oh. Well. Oops.” Renji laughs and hugs him just a little more, fingers creeping beneath his shirt once more just to rest against the skin of his belly. “No worries, Quiorra. It’s not something anyone is wanting to jump into right away so you really don’t gotta think too hard about it. And knowing you, the first thing you’re gonna do is start overthinking everything.”

“I don’t like that you know me so well.” Ulquiorra worries his lower lip between his teeth and he blurts out his concern without meaning to. “I don’t want to end up having to leave if you all get to know me and decide you don’t like me after all. I know I should be more forward and let you learn everything before I get attached so that if I have to leave, it doesn’t hurt, but—”

The hands on his stomach rub soothing circles into his skin and Renji hushes him, pressing his lips clumsily to the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth. “Slow down and take a deep breath.”

It takes Ulquiorra a moment to get his breathing under control and he realizes just how close he was to hyperventilating, a sign that he might need to consider professional help if he has this much trouble with his past. Renji kisses his cheek and the side of his neck and over where the sweatshirt too big for him slips off of his shoulder. The anchor of his arms and his mouth helps Ulquiorra calm down, which kind of embarrasses him all over again.

When Ulquiorra has calmed down, Renji speaks again. “No one is going to stop liking you, y’know. I don’t know what happened before but like, we all really like you. We took this plunge because we fucking adore you and your boyfriend so much. You’re amazing.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ulquiorra murmurs, playing with the hoodie cords.

“Well, I do. I fucking adore you. I think you’re really cute and funny in this dry way and your art is so beautiful and I totally want to make you fall in love with me.” Renji’s smirk is evident in his voice and Ulquiorra fights the urge to roll his eyes. “And if something happens, no one is going to kick you out or tell you to leave. We’ll all sit down and discuss it like adults. Did any of you guys ever just sit down and talk about things when it got rough for you?”

Ulquiorra stares across the room at the wall, the memories tugging at the back of his mind as he tries hard not to let himself fall back into it. Today was a good day; he shouldn’t let the past ruin the present and fuck up the future. Those people are gone now.

He presses the cuff of the sweatshirt against his mouth and heaves a soft sigh against the fabric. “We kind of did. It was more like we all sat down and my girlfriend told me that I didn’t want anything and that I should just go if I didn’t want things to work out.”

“Son of a bitch. That’s rough. I’m sorry.” Renji rolls him over and then pulls Ulquiorra up against his chest, smoothing his hand up and down his back. “That’s not going to happen here. We’re going to have a real conversation if anything goes wrong, I swear. I’ll make sure.”

The reassurance is what Ulquiorra needs to hear and he wraps his arms around Renji’s neck, holding onto him as he presses his forehead against Renji’s collarbones. This is all he really  needs, the promise that if anything goes wrong, he won’t be shunned and thrown away if anything goes wrong on his end of things. It still bothers him that he never got to really say his piece, never had a chance to let the others know how he truly felt and that he  _ wanted _ to make it work as long as everyone was happy. As long as she was happy, too.

It didn’t have to be love for all of them, did it? As long as they were all friends.

Renji hums softly in his ear until his eyelids start to grow heavier and he has to stifle four yawns against his shirt in five minutes. Gently, Ulquiorra leans up to kiss him, a soft and barely there brush of the lips before he settles back into the warmth of Renji’s embrace. This is his present, his relationship with these four men, and he wants it to work. He wants to do what it takes, and hopefully if anything goes wrong, they really can talk about it and work it out.

Waiting at the train station is not how Ulquiorra wants this to end. He doesn’t, he realizes, want it to end at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ulquiorra has had a little revelation and gotten what he really needs to hear. it's a rough time for him. and nozarashi/byakuya backstory a little bit in this chapter. that's probably going to come up more honestly. nel and kaien are probably going to show up in the next chapter.


	21. go with the flow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** a scene goes kinda wrong but not in an abusive way
> 
>  **sexual content:** mostly chatter more than anything else

“So what’s this place like?” A hand snakes up to the front of the car, gripping Grimmjow by the shoulder hard enough that he can feel short nails digging into his skin through the fishnet covering his torso. “You’ve been here before, Grimm, tell me more about it.”

Grimmjow twists around in his seat to face Nelliel, who peers at him from the backseat with an inquiring expression on her face. When Renji had stopped to pick up his band mates to bring them to Las Noches, it involved picking Nel up from the gym where Grimmjow trained her, which inspired him to invite Grimmjow to come along with them. They had to stop by his apartment so he could change, but he had texted Ulquiorra on the way to ask him if he wanted to come. Ulquiorra said no, he had deadlines to meet, but there were fresh clothes laid out on the bed for Grimmjow and though he thought the fishnet was a joke at first, he kind of likes it.

He has a coat bunched up on his lap for when he has to step out of the vehicle again. The day they spent with Aizen and Byakuya might have been warm, but winter is back in full force.

“It’s great. Kinda dark but everyone’s pretty respectful and there’s a lot of sexy furniture lying around that you can look at.” Grimmjow wriggles his eyebrows at her and Nel huffs at him, sitting back in her seat. “Lots of attractive men and women, too. You’re going to love it.”

Renji clears his throat from the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he goes. “So Sosuke and Bya were supposed to be meeting us there but there’s been some kind of family emergency and they’re at the hospital right now. Hal’s gonna take care of you both.”

“Family emergency?” Grimmjow’s eyebrows shoot up; Renji hadn’t said anything to him about it at the gym. “What happened? Is everything okay? Whose family is it?”

“Well I guess not blood family, it’s Byakuya’s ex-girlfriend from college. I guess they stayed in touch with one another after the break-up and she’s at the hospital right now.” Renji shrugs helplessly; it’s clear he doesn’t know much about what’s going on but he’s worried and Grimmjow can hardly blame him considering. “But Sosuke wants me to keep an eye on you tonight so with your consent, you’re gonna be playing sub to me.”

Grimmjow’s mouth opens a little at the notion; he hadn’t considered that Renji would ever want to do such a thing considering he let Byakuya collar him. “Is that something  _ you _ want to do?”

“I honestly don’t mind. I can keep you safe and take care of you for a night. It’s good practice because until Ulquiorra gets that Dominance training in, they defer to me having the most experience.” It might be Grimmjow’s imagination but he thinks he sees Renji preen just a little under the thought that they trust him with something like this.

Kaien appears between their seats a moment later, one arm looped loosely around both backrests to keep himself balanced. “Who’s Hal? Is she the woman who works at Las Noches with your boyfriends? Is she pretty? I bet she’s beautiful.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Renji says, and Kaien makes a noise of understanding. “But yeah, she’s gorgeous. She’s also way harder than any other Dom in the building because she’s gotta be, y’know? She’s the owner. And because you two are new, she’s going to want to talk to you and check in on you throughout the night. Always answer  _ Yes, Miss _ unless you wanna die.”

“Die?” Kaien asks, his voice cracking just the tiniest bit on the syllable.

Grimmjow snorts and smacks Renji on the shoulder. “Not very nice of you to scare them on their first night. She’s just strict is all and if you’re disrespectful, she can punish you for it.”

“And punishment can seriously suck a lot more than you would expect it to,” Renji says solemnly, “so address her politely every single time. Nel, I’m not going to tell you not to hit on her or anything because I know how you are around pretty girls, but just get that like, if she rejects you it’s not a big deal. Halibel kind of has a loyal following at Las Noches.”

Nel shoves her way between the seats with Kaien. “What do you mean by that?”

“A lot of the women who like other women have been with her at least once because she’s just, like, the littlest bit mysterious. She doesn’t bring her personal life into Las Noches and no one really knows much about her.” Renji shrugs as if this means nothing but Grimmjow can see the words only make Nel’s eyes glitter as if she wants to accept this unbidden challenge.

Las Noches itself almost always has a full parking lot but Renji borrows Byakuya’s reserved spot and leads them all inside, waving to Yammy as they file in. Menoly and Loly are at the desk as usual and they both wave cheerfully; Grimmjow almost swallowing his tongue when he realizes Menoly has a black leather strap around her wrist that leads to a chain secured around a matching collar around Loly’s throat. He knew the two of them were together on an intellectual level given how many times he’s seen them downstairs, but it always throws him off to see something so blatantly BDSM on the ground floor.

It’s allowed within reason. Collars and leashes are fine, certain behaviors are fine. Nothing explicitly sexual, though, which is what the dungeon is for in the first place.

“Hello, everyone.” Menoly gestures to the guest book and turns her attention to Kaien and Nel. “You two have to sign and date this. I know it might seem like a pain, but because the dungeon is a matter of trust and vulnerability, we need to know who’s inside at all times. That way, if something happens, we can account for the safety of everyone involved.”

Nel picks up the pen attached to it, leaning over to sign her name with a dramatic flourish. “That seems fair and honestly pretty smart. It’s not something I would have thought of.”

Loly shrugs a shoulder at her. “There are always people who are willing to take advantage of the truth of others and this is just the safest way to guard against it.”

“Thanks, ladies.” Renji waves a hand at them as he heads for the entrance to the dungeon. “Stay safe tonight and let us know if anything weird goes on up here.”

“Oi, Renji!” Loly perches herself on the edge of the desk to lean around it, waving a hand until Renji turns back and looks at her, one brow arched in question. “Halibel is waiting in the office for you to bring in your friends. Don’t keep her waiting if you can afford it.”

Renji nods, forming a circle with his thumb and finger. “Thanks for the head’s up, Loly.”

They make a beeline for the office; Halibel is sitting behind the wide black desk against one wall, fingers flying across the keyboard of the computer in front of her. All Grimmjow can see of her from this angle is her face, the lights from the monitor lighting up her rich brown skin and the platinum gold of her hair, her green eyes sharpened in focus. She is easily one of the most beautiful women Grimmjow has ever seen, and there’s an air about her that lets you know at a glance what role she takes in a scene without you having to ask.

Halibel’s gaze lifts from the monitor before she stands, walking around the desk. “Renji, nice to see you this evening. And I see you’ve finally brought your friends to visit us.”

“Good evening, Miss.” Renji isn’t above having manners and when he bows his head to her, Grimmjow mimics the motion. “This is Shiba Kaien and Nelliel tu Odelschwanck. They’re both members of my band and interested in exploring Las Noches.”

One pale brow arches. “That last name is quite a mouthful, young lady.”

Nel’s sharp intake of breath says it all; so she’s noticed the aura around Halibel after all. “My apologies, Miss. It can be hard to learn, but onstage I go by Nel Tu to make it easier.”

“Ah, I see.” Halibel looks between the two of them as she leans back against her desk, crossing her arms over her stomach. Any higher might be impossible with that chest. “Well, tell me what you’re interested in exploring and we can go from there.”

“Other than submission, Miss?” Kaien asks, and Grimmjow glances at Renji, arching an eyebrow. His impression of Kaien hadn’t been for something like that, but Renji only shrugs and nods, and Grimmjow bites back the urge to make a comment about the fact Renji managed to put together an entire band of subs. “I mean… the whole pain and pleasure thing looks cool. I guess, personally speaking, I’d be into doing something with more than one man.”

Halibel’s lips twitch but she smoothes out her expression, fingers rising to press into her chin as she hums thoughtfully. “I see. There is a Dominant in our club this evening who is interested in a partner to accompany him and his husband, so I might introduce you to them. Ukitake-san’s medical condition can make it difficult for others to want to be involved with him.”

Kaien’s face flashes with sympathy. “Shit,” he breathes. “Yeah, okay, Miss, I’m fine with that.”

“That’s good.” Halibel’s eyes drift to Nel and Grimmjow bites down on his tongue to hold in a chuckle when he sees her squirm under the attention. “And what about you, little sub?”

Though Grimmjow has only interacted with her a few times in separate occasions, he learned to pick up the slight difference in her voice when she addresses others and when she addresses women she might be interested in. The slight drop in the octave of her voice, the almost purring quality to each word as she levels her gaze with Nel’s. To his shock, Nel drops her eyes almost immediately and he can see the twitch in Halibel’s arms, the twitch at her lips again. It’s more noticeable this time, the slightest flash of a barely there smile.

“I just like the idea of being tied up and being at someone’s mercy while they do things to me, Miss,” Nel says, a slightly breathy quality to her voice. “That’s all, really, I figure I can work out the specifics after I meet someone willing to do it. Shibari is just so pretty.”

Halibel nods slowly and he can see the moment when she decides to go in for the kill. “What are your preferences in terms of gender, that I might accommodate you accordingly?”

“Ah, I like men just fine but in this context I’d prefer a woman,” Nel says softly and sweetly.

Grimmjow can hardly blame her after his experiences with Mayuri, but he knows it can be a hell of a lot harder to be a woman and put your body in the hands and trust of a man you do not know very well. While Nel had come to visit him for bodybuilding more than anything else, Grimmjow had given her a few self-defense lessons for free because he figures if she’s going to be walking around a dark city at night, she might need them. Better to be prepared and to be safe than to expect the best out of people who might manipulate your trust to hurt you.

But the comment has Halibel out and out smirking as she steps forward, fingers dipping beneath Nel’s chin to force her head back up. “I am quite skilled in shibari, if you would like to learn.”

“Oh, very much.” Nel’s entire body seems to run with a shudder. “If you want to, Miss.”

Renji clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “Miss, if you don’t mind, I can take Kaien and introduce him to Kyoraku-san for you. Since you seem to be occupied at the moment.”

“Of course, sub, that would be very helpful. Thank you.” Halibel hooks a finger in the collar of Nel’s shirt and pulls her a step closer, and Grimmjow can feel the heat in the room rocketing up the longer they stand there. “Let them talk but otherwise step in as you think is necessary. Make sure you establish a safeword before you leave them to do anything together, understood?”

“Yeah, of course. Oh.” Renji stops and stands straight. “Then I’ll do the same here for Nel.”

Halibel smiles warmly at him. “Very good, I gave you the hint to make sure you would pick up on that. Nel, I would like you to establish a safeword with me before we proceed. Some here use a color-based system but I would prefer a single word to cease all activity for our first evening together. It can be easy to become overwhelmed and talk yourself out of cautioning me when your limits are coming near if you want to impress me.”

“Oh, um.” Nel hesitates, then straightens up. “Is  _ knight _ fine, Miss?”

“Yes, that works well. Single syllable are a lot easier to get out in the heat of it all.” Halibel pats the top of her head before drawing Nel in against her side, wrapping her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “You three may go. Grimmjow, darling, please enjoy your evening.”

Grimmjow grins at her and nods. “You got it, Miss.”

As soon as the office door closes behind them, Renji exhales heavily. “Damn, I should’ve expected that one. I hope it doesn’t go weird for them. Halibel’s never settled down or collared anyone but Nel doesn’t seem like she’d try to hold out for something like that.”

“She’ll be okay,” Kaien says, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So, these two men—”

“Kyoraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jushiro,” Renji rattles off the top of his head. “They both used to co-Dom together like Sosuke and Bya can, but Ukitake’s been sick as hell lately and it’s a lot harder for him to be active without messing up his lungs. Makes a lot of subs wary of him.”

Kaien shakes his head, blue eyes soft with concern. “That’s so shitty. Just because he’s sick doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to still have people want to interact with them.”

“Kyoraku’s been pushing for this idea that he’d like to find a sub to function as a service top for Ukitake’s pleasure while he watches. We talked about it once.” Renji’s voice is warm and Grimmjow imagines he must have a good relationship with these men to be able to speak about them in such a gentle and warm way. “That sound like something you might be into?”

“You’re telling me that, what, I get to fuck a dude while another dude tells me how to do it? That’s… Oh yeah.” Kaien’s hand drifts between his legs, adjusting himself through the heavy black denim of jeans that look like they might have been painted onto his legs.

Renji snorts. “Thought so. C’mon, Kyoraku’s just over here. It’s  _ Yes, Sir _ with both of them.”

Kaien nods confidently. “Got it. That’s easy to remember.”

Kyoraku turns out to be a man Grimmjow has seen Sosuke and Byakuya address a thousand times before, it seems, without ever asking who he is. He’s settled back on one of the couches with his arm wrapped securely around the man next to him, a floral kimono open over a pair of black leather pants and a white shirt with a low and soft collar. Stubbled and surprisingly handsome in a very conventional sense, he raises an eyebrow at them as they come closer, and Grimmjow can see when his arm tightens around the other man’s shoulders. It’s probably reflex more than anything else, but it’s definitely there.

The other man is as beautiful as Kyoraku is handsome, all delicate features and long white hair that stands in stark contrast to his dark brown eyes. He looks almost ethereal and not at all dressed for a BDSM dungeon, sitting quietly with his legs folded beneath him in a pair of simple pants and a dark sweater that only highlights how light his skin is in tone.

“Renji,” Kyoraku says, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “And Grimmjow. Nice to see the two of you this evening. To what do I owe this unusual pleasure?”

Renji bows his head and Grimmjow mimics it once more; he’s surprised Kyoraku remembers his name despite the fact they’ve never spoken. “Showing some friends around Las Noches, Sir. We just got out of our meeting with Halibel and she said to bring Kaien to see you.”

Kyoraku’s eyes drift to where Kaien stands between the two of them, looking him up and down slowly before he clears his throat. “I see. Kneel, sub. Tell me why you were brought to me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kaien sounds just slightly startled but he does as asked, taking a step forward and kneeling properly, his spine perfectly straight and probably a holdover from his excellent posture when it comes to sitting behind his drum set. “Miss sent me to see you because I said I wanted to do a scene with more than one man. She also said that your husband was ill and you had trouble finding someone who would be willing to scene with you two, but I don’t mind that.”

“Is that so, huh?” Kyoraku leans forward, fingers gripping Kaien under the chin and though his voice remains placid, Grimmjow can see how tight his grip is, how the skin around it bleaches white under the pressure. “That’s a very interesting take to have already. I’m impressed. Most people run away the minute they realize something might be wrong.”

Kaien’s eyes widen but Grimmjow can also see the flush in his cheeks, that the attention is already starting to get to him. “I’m sorry, Sir. But I don’t mind. Renji told me more details about what you were specifically looking for and I’d be willing to try it.”

“Shunsui, ease up on him.” Ukitake— Grimmjow can only assume it’s him, can’t imagine Kyoraku wanting to put his arms around anyone else— swats Kyoraku’s hand away, running his fingers through Kaien’s hair. “He’s protective of me, sweetheart, that’s all.”

“It’s all right, Sir. I can understand.” Kaien still leans into the touch and Grimmjow bites down on the inside of his cheek at the sight, the way Ukitake’s eyes seem to soften.

“I’ve gotta establish a safeword and then I can leave you alone,” Renji says quickly.

“Yellow and red’s fine for me,” Kaien says, looking back at him. “Really. I know what Miss said but I really don’t mind using it. So you can go on, dude, I’m good.”

Kyoraku nods, snapping his fingers so that Kaien’s head jerks back toward him. “Very good, sub. Now come here and we’ll discuss what I’d like to see you do in great detail.”

Renji takes Grimmjow by the wrist and leads him away from that display, whistling low in his throat. “I figured it would go down okay, but I didn’t think it would go down that well— Oh shit, what’s going on now? Why is something  _ always _ going on?”

Grimmjow whips his head around to see what Renji means and feels something in his stomach sour when he watches Shinji rip his arm out of the grip of another man, one Grimmjow doesn’t recognize but has heard enough about to know who he is on sight. Muguruma Kensei throws his hands up in the air, a pleading expression on his face as he takes a step forward, and Shinji’s hands ball up into fists, his chin raised in a silent challenge. Something has obviously happened between the two of them, but Grimmjow can’t imagine what.

Aizen never said anything about Shinji having problems with any of the other Dominants.

“Should we get involved?” Grimmjow asks, nervous energy dancing along his skin.

Renji blows out a breath of air, squeezes his eyes shut. “ _ No, _ ” he says even as he takes a step forward. “We definitely shouldn’t, but it looks like we’re going to do it anyway.”

Grimmjow doesn’t know what the hell is going on but he does what he thinks is right, walking straight to Shinji who sees him coming, dark eyes narrowing for just a moment before he finally relaxes his body posture and sighs bitterly. Gently, Grimmjow offers him a hand, not sure what else to do, not even sure what happened, but if Shinji ran out in the middle of a scene he might be feeling out of sorts and Grimmjow doesn’t want him to be feeling worse for it.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Shinji grabs his hand with both of his own. “Shinji—”

“Shut up. I’m fine.” Shinji ducks his head so that his hair fans around his face, hiding his expression well. “Fine  _ enough, _ that is. Even if  _ someone _ doesn’t believe me!”

The rise in the volume of his voice makes Kensei wince. “If you’re not going to safeword when you’re clearly uncomfortable or well past your limits, then I’m going to stop the scene for you. You know that. That doesn’t mean you get to throw a tantrum and run off because of it!”

Grimmjow doesn’t know what to say; he just pulls Shinji in a little closer as a test and when Shinji lets him, pulls Shinji up against his side. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says when Shinji’s entire body quakes softly, the sound of a very soft sob leaving his throat. “Shinji, wait—”

“Look, man, you know I can’t let you get near him,” Renji says when Kensei tries to take a step forward, stretching out a hand to rest on Kensei’s chest— right over a tattoo of the number  _ sixty-nine _ of all things. “He’s upset and he clearly doesn’t want to be around you right now.”

Kensei looks torn, his gaze still fixed on Shinji. “I didn’t do anything wrong. He wasn’t going to stop, Renji. He was going to let me hurt him and I couldn’t do that for him.”

“I don’t care,” Renji says simply. “He doesn’t want you to touch him and I’m not going to make him sit down and talk to you right now. Deal with that. Grimmjow, take Shinji off to Sosuke’s room and make sure he’s taken care of. Do  _ not _ let anyone in, you got it?”

“Definitely.” Grimmjow wraps an arm around Shinji’s waist, guiding him in a wide arc around Renji and Kensei and down the hallway, Shinji’s head ducked, shoulders jerking with the soft sound of his crying. “It’s okay, Shinji, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, I promise.”

Shinji doesn’t say anything in return and Grimmjow tries not to pressure him as he unlocks the door with the spare key Aizen had given him in case he needed it tonight. He knows the contents of the room well now and sits Shinji down on the bed, looking over his back—  _ a flogger, _ he thinks, making his way to the bathroom to pick up the oil he knows is here that will soothe the wounds. It was the same Aizen used on him and usually it would be Kensei’s job to do this for Shinji, but obviously Shinji had other plans in mind when he took off.

“I’m just going to take care of your back,” Grimmjow tells him, sitting down behind him.

“You really don’t have to.” Shinji sniffles pitifully and it breaks Grimmjow’s heart to hear how sad he sounds. “God, I didn’t mean to run off on him. I just wanted him to go a little bit harder but he’s never done that with me before and he assumed the worst.”

Grimmjow bites down on his lower lip, nodding slowly. “Did you guys fight and then you left?”

“Yeah. You know, I’ve been doing my best to keep our drama out of the club because I’m a professional and I don’t want to ruin anyone’s fun but…” Shinji draws in a deep, shuddering breath and Grimmjow gets to work on his back, carefully rubbing the oil into the flushed red skin. There aren’t any welts, at least. “But sometimes he tries to assume he knows what’s best for me and it just drives me right up the fucking wall. Like, I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Your drama, huh?” Grimmjow doesn’t press, but he doesn’t know what Shinji is talking about.

There’s a pause before Shinji lifts his head. “Y’know, you’re a stranger. I don’t know a damned thing about ya, but it makes me want to open up to you anyway. Like I know you can’t judge me for shit because you don’t know me half as well as anyone else here.”

“If you’re worried I’m going to take what you say home with me and tell Sosuke, I’m not.” He would never; there are some lines no one crosses. “So if you want to vent, I’ll listen.”

“You’re a good boy. Sosuke was smart to make sure you had a good experience after all.” Shinji shifts and Grimmjow imagines him wiping the tears off of his cheeks. “Kensei and I, we used to be a thing. Wasn’t just us involved, but we were two parts of it.”

The words have Grimmjow stilling for just a moment before he works the oil into Shinji’s skin along his spine. “Huh. I didn’t know that. You guys were in a poly relationship, too?”

“Yeah. S’why I can’t imagine why the hell Sosuke wants to do something like that. Sorry, that’s not an insult. Just being honest about my own shitty experiences with it.” Shinji looks at Grimmjow over his shoulder and his face really is a mess, skin blotchy and tear-stained, eyes red. “But shit hit the fan and I lost him. I lost all of them, actually. We all just left.”

“Oh.” Grimmjow doesn’t know what to say. That sounds like worst case scenario to him.

Shinji turns back around, shrugs his shoulders just a little. “Yeah. I mean it was probably a big chunk of my fault but I thought we were past that. I thought we could work together.”

“You two are still… Damn. That’s impressive.” He  _ really _ doesn’t know what to say, feels so out of his depth when it comes to something like this. But Shinji leans back into his hands, so he does his best to be the anchor Shinji is obviously looking for at the moment.

Aizen and Byakuya had nailed it into his head that aftercare was important, that not having it meant that a crash and burn could be very likely and it would be very emotional, would hurt more than Grimmjow could really imagine. If Kensei can’t take care of Shinji right now, then Grimmjow can handle it. It’s not too hard, just physical contact and TLC, something he can easily do for anyone. And definitely for someone who’s breaking down crying.

“Hisagi wanted to involve me, I think the kid’s got a big dumb puppy crush on me.” Shinji laughs at the thought and Grimmjow winces at the sound of it, how strained and sad it sounds to him. “Whatever, though. So I said yes. We’ve fucked since the break-up, it’s not a big deal.”

“And he’s always put your boundaries before his own comfort with them first?” Grimmjow asks.

Shinji sighs and when Grimmjow has finished with his back, he whips his own shirt up and off, not wanting to rub the fishnet into Shinji’s raw skin. Instead, he just pulls Shinji back into his chest, leaning into the pillows, letting Shinji go lax in his arms. He’s warm and he goes easy, letting Grimmjow hold him, fingers curling around Grimmjow’s forearm not to make him stop but more or less just seeming to want to hold onto him.

“Yeah,” Shinji says, his voice thick with emotion. “Always putting me first. Always making sure I knew he would take care of me and not try to push shit on me like he did when… Anyway, it was fine. We were fine. And then I told Hisagi I could have taken the flogger harder and Kensei just said that no I couldn’t, that i shouldn’t push myself to show off. But I wasn’t.”

The bitterness returns to his voice and Grimmjow nods slowly, running his hands up and down Shinji’s torso in an effort to keep him feeling warm and relaxed. “I’m sorry. That was shitty of him to do. Your back honestly didn’t look that bad to me in the first place.”

“Right? That’s the first time he’s ever done that.” Shinji exhales slowly and leans his head back against Grimmjow’s shoulder, and up close he’s surprisingly pretty, sharp and pointy features more elfen than anything else. “He’s not a shithead, though, like… I know that better than anyone. He’s a good man. He cares way too much and I wish he wouldn’t because I don’t need him to take care of me like that. I’ve probably been with more people at this point than him so I know what my limits are. We weren’t even close to them.”

Grimmjow has nothing more to add so he just holds onto Shinji and lets him vent, getting up from the bed only once to bring him some snacks and water back to the bed when his throat starts to sound strained. Shinji takes both gladly and settles back into Grimmjow’s arms, and he seems… Almost content to be here, so Grimmjow is hopefully doing a good job taking care of him. When Shinji falls asleep on him, he breathes a sigh of relief and tucks him into bed.

_ It really is always something, _ he thinks, pulling his phone out of his pocket when he gets a text.

He doesn’t recognize the phone number and has to open the message to see who it’s from.  _ This is Halibel. _ Maybe he should have just opened the text right away.  _ I am sending someone to check on Shinji and collect him from Sosuke’s bedroom. Please unlock the door for her. _

Renji told him not to let anyone in, but Grimmjow figures Halibel’s authority extends higher than his, so he unlocks the door and waits faithfully next to it. A soft knock comes on the wood and he opens it, a surprised noise leaving his throat when he realized that he knows this woman’s name but has not met her prior to now. Yadomaru Lisa nods her head to him once before walking into the room and over to the bed, stretching out a hand to brush Shinji’s hair back out of his face before a soft and pained sigh leaves her lips.

“I heard about what happened from Hal, but I still don’t like seeing it.” She shakes her head, then looks at Grimmjow. “Thanks for taking care of him. He and Kensei… Jesus Christ.”

Grimmjow shrugs. “Wasn’t a problem. I know what I’m doing, I got good Doms to tell me how to do things the right way. But, uh, is he going to be okay?”

“Shinji? Yeah, he’ll be fine. He and Kensei don’t usually have issues with each other but I would be lying if I said I was surprised.” Lisa shakes her head, then fixes Grimmjow with a stern expression. “I know you might be tempted to be upset with Kensei after this, but I reassure you that he’s not a bad man. He and Shinji simply do not mix well anymore.”

“He told me a few things that lead me to believe that it was a misunderstanding and the guy isn’t actually a creep.” Grimmjow nods, hoping that reassures her somewhat.”

Lisa’s expression softens. “Good. I’m going to take Shinji home. He’s had a rough night and he really doesn’t need to be engaging in play with anyone else tonight. He should just rest. Thank you again for taking care of him, he really needed that.”

“Do you want me to carry him?” Grimmjow asks, watching her turn back the bedspread.

Ignoring him, Lisa picks Shinji up off of the mattress with seemingly little to no effort, holding him in her arms and walking past Grimmjow without a word. He whistles at her strength but turns his attention to neateing up the room, figuring his part in this is over. He makes a note to bother Aizen into checking on Shinji in the morning and is just making the bed when Renji shows up in the doorway, looking far more tired than he had when they came here.

“Everyone else is fine,” he says before Grimmjow can ask. “Nel and Kaien are doing great, Kensei took Hisagi and went home. You took care of Shin, huh? That was good of you.”

“Someone should have,” Grimmjow answers, and Renji nods. “Lisa’s strong as hell and I didn’t realize that. She carried him out of here on her own and I wouldn’t have thought she could.”

Renji snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, she’s a beast. You should see her biceps. Well, considering my friends are fine, wanna watch a show? Rangiku feels like the atmosphere is a little tense so she and Gin are going to perform for everyone to make up for it.”

Grimmjow’s eyes widen and then he smirks. “Yeah. Let’s go liven the mood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so shinji and kensei have something of a past and grimmjow gets to show he's learned so well from aizen and byakuya. also shamelessly inserting some of my favorite ships into this chapter.


	22. ruminations over a friendly lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** none

The text message comes from a phone number Ulquiorra does not recognize and he studies it for a moment, taking in the familiar area code— the same as is— before opening it.  _ Was told you did graphic design. Does that mean you work on logos too? _

Before he can think of how to answer the question politely, another message comes in.  _ This is Bazz btw. Probably should have mentioned that the first time. _

Ulquiorra knows for a fact he never gave his phone number to the mohawked drummer of Nozarashi and would never have tried something so perilous in the first place. Still, he stares at the screen for a moment, wondering who might have done it for him, knowing it would have been Aizen or Byakuya. Logo work? He can do that. Much of his most important work is in logos, making sure that companies are branded in the proper way and that independent ventures can present themselves as professionally as possible. He would have thought Nozarashi has more than enough access to such artists, though.

_ I can do that. _ He types the words slowly, wondering if he should bother with being as formal as he tries to remain with his clients. Best to veer on the side of caution, probably.  _ Provided you explain to me what the project entails and what you need of me, I can come up with exactly what you need. What am I making the logo for? _

_ Can we talk about it in person? Texting and driving is hard. _ The last comment has Ulquiorra’s eyebrows shooting up in disbelief and he heaves a tired sigh.

_ Don’t text and drive. Where are you? _ He can probably think of a meeting place for the two of them and wonders if he should jack up his rates because a celebrity is asking for his services. Usually, he works with people who have significant money, but he tries to price himself both fairly and competitively because he wants the business. Charging too much means fewer people are willing to communicate with him, but if Bazz is coming straight to him and there is no other competition for him to worry about…

His phone vibrates, signalling another message.  _ Just left the studio which is like three blocks from our label’s building. You wanna meet up with me for lunch? I’ll pay. _

_ That works. Send me a location and an address and I’ll meet you there. _ And then Ulquiorra is up and moving, changing out of his pajamas— he has no reasons to get dressed in more adult clothing if he just plans on working around the house— and into something more professional.

An address comes in and he programs it into his phone GPS as he gets ready, sighing as he yanks a brush through the knots in his hair once more. While he has done absolutely nothing warranting the tangles, they are here just the same, a reminder that his hair is much too long and he has to do something about it. Perhaps get it cut soon so it stops being such a pain. Until then, he pulls it back into a ponytail, and he steals another of Grimmjow’s sweaters.

Having a garage is a lifesaver; the space is still cold when Ulquiorra steps into it, but the windshield is free of frost and he breathes a sigh of relief as he starts the car and slides into the driver’s seat, letting it heat up before he tries to brave the winter world outside. As far as he is concerned, winter is the worst season because he can never stay warm enough to manage it.

So he survives on hot coffee and stealing Grimmjow’s clothes, the sweaters and sweatshirts long enough to serve as more like a dress than anything else, the sleeves always far too long. They hang past the tips of his fingers when his arms are down and pool around the bends of his elbows if he lifts his arms for any reason, never content to stay in any one place. But he likes them, likes being warm, the softness of the worn material, and the scent of Grimmjow’s cologne that always lingers no matter how many times Ulquiorra washes them.

It feels like Grimmjow is sitting here with his arms around Ulquiorra, and he loves that.

He also loves having a distraction from just sitting around the house and thinking about Grimmjow recounting what happened with Shinji. Not knowing the older submissive has not really stopped Ulquiorra from worrying about if something much worse occurred.

Bazz is waiting for him outside of the restaurant, a beanie smashed down on top of his magenta hair as he leans against the bricks of the diner. When he sees Ulquiorra walking toward him, he straightens up and smiles, lifting a hand in greeting. “Hey there, pretty baby.”

“You’re still on about that, hmm?” Ulquiorra stops just in front of him, casting a glance at the building through the large window next to him. “This seems awfully quaint for a celebrity.”

“It’s got great food and a better atmosphere. And I didn’t think you wanted me to take you somewhere where the press might show up to take some candids.” Bazz flashes him a half-smile and takes a step forward. “C’mon, if you’re gonna be dating Kuchiki now, then we’re all just one big happy family. And I think that entitles me to a hug.”

Ulquiorra rolls his eyes; he’d noticed how touchy Nozarashi was at the house. “Fine, fine.”

Bazz is just as tall as Grimmjow and, from the feel of the body that Ulquiorra slips his arms around for a brief embrace, equally fit. He supposes such a thing must be true in order to play the drums and can only imagine the strain such an act can cause if something as small and simple as drawing is enough to fuck up his hands for days if he isn’t careful about how he does it. But it has the dual effect of making Bazz very strong, so the way he squeezes Ulquiorra borders on painful even though it’s likely an accident.

“You’re so much shorter than me, holy shit. I knew that but experiencing it firsthand is really something.” Bazz grins down into his face and Ulquiorra sighs up at him.

“I don’t particularly like being reminded of such a fact,” he says, pushing on Bazz’s chest.

The man’s face flashes in sympathy and he steps back, giving his head a quick bow. “I’m sorry, Quiorra. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I was just making an observation, but if it upset you then that’s on me. Wanna go in and get something to eat now?”

Between the genuine tone of the apology and the whiplash he always receives from someone else using Grimmjow’s nickname for him, Ulquiorra is quiet as he nods and follows Bazz into the diner. It’s small but warm inside, people gathered together around small tables and booths. No one seems to realize that Bazz is there, which is probably for the best; the woman behind the counter still squeals when she sees him, pulling herself up and over the glossy wood to launch herself at him so quickly Bazz has maybe seconds to catch her.

“Bazzard! I haven’t seen you in so long!” She seems to hop up and down while holding him, Bazz laughing all the while. “Oh, did you bring a friend with you?”

Though it had been years since Ulquiorra last saw his ex-girlfriend, this woman reminds him of her, the same bubbly personality that seems to spill over to the people around her based on the way a few nearby customers smile warmly and shake their heads at her. Her fair skin contrasts heavily with the fall of her glossy black hair and it almost looks like she has antennae at the top, a couple of thick strands standing on their own accord. Deep blue eyes look him up and down with interest and her full lips purse in interest before she smiles at him, almost beaming.

Bazz nods, slinging an arm around her shoulders and turning her to face Ulquiorra properly. “Yeah, I did. This is Ulquiorra Cifer. He’s a graphic design artist I met recently. Ulquiorra, this is Giselle Gewelle, the most important woman in the entire world.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Ulquiorra asks, stepping forward to take her hand.

“I’m gay,” she says without a moment of hesitation and Ulquiorra’s eyes widen up at her, not exactly expecting to just have that dropped on him. “It’s okay! A lot of people assume we’re dating when they first see us talking to each other, but no. I like girls!”

He almost doesn’t know what to say to that just out of the blue but Bazz saves him. “Giselle’s more like a little sister to me than anything else. This place is her passion project.”

“We have the best food, really. We always get good reviews when food critics try to sneak in and eat without me realizing.” Giselle giggles at the concept, shaking her head and wagging a finger as she does. “But I always know! No one can fool me.”

“That’s my girl.” Bazz kisses the top of her head and pats her on the shoulder. “We’re going to be sitting in the corner by the big windows, y’know, my favorite booth. Just talking business.”

Giselle nods, her expression serious. “Of course. I hope it all works out!”

She climbs back over the counter rather than walking around it and Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow, unable to ask before Bazz takes him gently by the arm and leads him over to the booth he specified. The tables are a dark and glossy wood, the booths and chairs upholstered in a deep crimson cushioning that feels like heaven when Ulquiorra finally sits down, perfect for the slight ache that always develops in his spine when he’s been working for a long time.

Bazz drops down and stretches his arms, and his ankle knocks gently against Ulquiorra’s beneath the table. “Oh, sorry, long legs. You been having a good day this morning?”

“It’s been largely uneventful. Grimmjow works all day so I was just working.” Nothing really sparked his creative passion, but finishing the projects is more important than just being emotionally attached to them. “I was surprised that you have my phone number.”

“Asked Byakuya for it. Our label has some artists who work on stuff like this but I didn’t really think any of them were cut out for what I had in mind.” Bazz leans forward and his expression shifts, all serious lines. “I have a line of drumsticks coming out and we need a good logo for it so it’s recognizable. My name’s probably enough but I want to make sure of it.”

A standard job, then. Nothing beyond the realm of Ulquiorra’s capabilities. “I can do that for you. I didn’t realize you were releasing something like that, but Nozarashi is Grimmjow’s favorite band, not mine, so I guess I wouldn’t have known about it.”

“Not yours, huh?” Bazz leans back in his seat, presses a hand to this chest. “That  _ stings. _ I guess I know that’s how you care about Byakuya is that you’re not just sleeping with him to get closer to us. Even though we’re all pretty devilishly handsome.”

“Yumichika is considered to be devilishly handsome,” Ulquiorra deadpans.

Bazz blinks at him once or twice, then  _ hmms _ and cocks his head. “I guess to some people he must be. But like fair. Oh well, I guess  _ I _ make up for it all on my own.”

Ulquiorra tries not to snort as he folds his hands on top of the table. “Is that so? I was under the impression that the member of your band considered the most attractive is Zaraki Kenpachi considering he does something like fifty percent of the photography-based interviews.”

“Wow, okay, I see how it is.” The corner of Bazz’s mouth lifts slightly. “Been a long time since I had a man verbally abuse me like this. Who are you, my ex-boyfriend?”

The comment takes Ulquiorra aback. “I’m sorry. Is the relationship still a sore spot for you?”

“Nah, I mean, I guess yeah probably, but like, not really.” Bazz shrugs, as if that explains absolutely anything instead of explaining not a damn thing. “Whatever, he’s gone. I’m famous.”

“This was prior to your joining the band? Nozarashi has… Been together for a significant period of time, have you not?” The thought has Ulquiorra’s head spinning, but he supposes it makes sense given just how strict the company has been about their images. He never imagined they had proper dating restrictions, but some people just invent them for themselves.

Bazz opens his mouth to reply, but a waitress comes to take their order and pauses to chat with him. By the time they put their orders in and she brings them their drinks, Ulquiorra thinks he might have just dropped the conversation all together when he finally clears his throat.

“I know I have the playboy image but it’s not really the lifestyle I like to lead.” Bazz stirs the ice in his drink around with his straw, and he sounds almost wistful. “I want to have just one solid relationship with another person where we both get each other, where we’re there for the other person and not just because of something like fame or money. Since that’s not really something I can just do, I’ve been on my own since we started the band.”

The thought is depressing and Ulquiorra stares down at his drink, feeling that familiar pang of guilt every time he does something like this. “I am sorry. I had no idea—”

“Stop that!” Bazz admonishes him, and Ulquiorra jumps in his seat when the man’s big, callused hands settle on top of his own. “You did it at dinner too. Damn near broke my heart to watch you running off because you asked a question that was kinda hard for us to answer.”

Ulquiorra remembers that all too well. “I feel as though I have a special talent for running over a person’s sore spots until they feel raw once more. I have no desire to be like that.”

“So what? Everyone puts their foot in their mouth sometime. You could be me and do it and get splashed across every magazine cover for it like once every two months or something like that.” Bazz winces and Ulquiorra bites down on the inside of his cheek. “I think Byakuya keeps count.”

That makes Ulquiorra snort, dropping his head to hide the way his lips threaten to stretch into a smile at the imagery. “I could see him doing something like that.”

“Right? Hey.” Bazz’s fingers slip beneath his chin and tilt, and Ulquiorra finds himself staring into the man’s bright green eyes, shades lighter than his own. “Stop hiding every time you smile. It kills me that you’d rather let people see you sad and moping than happy.”

“I do not. You don’t have enough information about me to know that,” Ulquiorra argues, shivering just a little when Bazz’s fingers slip up to touch his jaw.

Bazz sighs softly at him, and there’s something so profoundly sad in that sound that it makes Ulquiorra shift in his seat. “Nah, but you did the same thing at dinner and it makes me think it’s a theme. I’d let you fuck up and say dumb shit all the time if you’d just smile.”

“You seem to have a fixation with whether or not I smile,” Ulquiorra says, and the hand on his face moves away; he picks up his glass to take a drink, easing the slight dryness in his throat and mouth. Cold weather plays havoc on his body. “And that is something I do not understand.”

“‘Cause when you smile, it lights up your whole face and your eyes and your skin tone shows it up real well when you’re flushed. Can’t hide it, being that pale.” Bazz taps him on the cheek and Ulquiorra almost chokes on his drink. “It’s cute. I dunno, man, it just makes me grin when I see you smiling. But then your resting face just makes you look sad all the damn time.”

Ulquiorra winces and shakes his head; maybe he shouldn’t have come here. “Well, it’s good to know that my resting bitch face is so depressing to you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You don’t have resting bitch face,” Bazz says immediately, and Ulquiorra pauses, the sincerity in his voice stopping him from just standing and walking out of the diner. “You look sad. Retsu used to say you could tell by someone’s resting expression how they normally felt, like, some people look happy even when they aren’t doing anything at all. Some people have resting bitch face and some people just look sad because they usually  _ are _ sad.”

“And you care about all of this because you like the way I look when I smile.” Ulquiorra rolls his eyes, hands pressed flat to the table, prepared to stand up and leave.

“Well… Yeah.” Bazz stays perfectly in place, like he has no intention of stopping Ulquiorra if he leaves, which is at least better than most. “Like the way you smiled when you were carrying Yachiru around the kitchen and letting her help cook. That was amazing.”

“You really paid attention to that.” He’s not sure if he should be impressed at the man’s perceptiveness or just a little creeped out, but it does make him pause once more.

This time, Bazz arches an eyebrow at him. “Are you listening to yourself? Of course I did. Yachiru’s my niece and if she’s going to be with a stranger, I’m going to keep an eye on her. Even if her dad’s right there to take care of her. That’s just how family works. You keep an eye on those you want to make sure are safe and you want your family to smile all the time instead of looking like someone just recently shot their dog in front of them.”

_ Oh. _ Ulquiorra breathes a sigh of relief and settles back into his seat. “I understand now. Thank you for explaining to me. Sorry if I came off just a little hostile.”

“Come off as hostile as you want, babe. I don’t mind.” Bazz lifts his glass and acts like he’s mock toasting before taking a sip. “If anything ever happens to that pretty smile of yours again, just pick up the phone and call me and I’ll find a way to put it back. Even if it’s just something like lunch or dumb shit like that. Everyone I care about should be happy.”

When Ulquiorra goes home, he will sit and have an emotional moment over the idea that Nozarashi has already accepted his place in Byakuya’s life enough that one of their members could say such things to him in such a blunt manner. Until then, he keeps his expression schooled and focuses on his food when it comes, turning the conversation back to something easy: work. He makes notes on his phone for what Bazz wants this logo to look like.

Working with Nozarashi might be his most publicly noticed venture so far and he wants to make sure this works out well for both of them. They might come to him with more work in the future and when he asks Bazz how much he thinks he should pay for this, Bazz gives him a number far too ridiculously high for Ulquiorra to take him seriously.

The thing is, he’s serious.

“I’m not paying you less than that.” Bazz points at Ulquiorra with a Frenchy fry before stuffing it into his mouth. “Take that look off your face. This is well worth it to me.”

“That’s…” Ulquiorra presses his fingers to his mouth, not sure what to say. “I can’t let a client pay me so much, it’ll look like I ripped you off if I charge you that much  _ more _ than my other clients. That’s too high. You should ballpark it at least a little lower.”

The last thing he needs is someone assuming he took advantage of Bazz because of the money, and something like that might spread like wildfire.

Bazz shakes his head immediately. “I am not. I already asked Byakuya how much you typically charged and that’s not enough for how much this is gonna sell. You deserve more.”

“I haven’t even made the logo yet. You don’t even know if I can do what you want me to do.” Of course he can, but that is besides the point. Even the most difficult customers have gone away satisfied even if Ulquiorra wanted to yank a handful of his hair out because of them. “So you can’t make such ridiculous statements. If anyone else found out—”

“Then I’d tell them that I found the best damn artist I could and paid him triple what he was worth because he was worth it, and that’s final,” Bazz says firmly.

_ He’s trying to kill me. _ “If you ruin my reputation as an artist, I’m going to kill you.”

“Oh, I look forward to that. That seems like it might be exciting.” Bazz winks at him and Ulquiorra ducks his head at just how lascivious he has to make it look, furiously cutting into his chicken and refusing to look at Bazz. “Oh, there it is. You’re blushing because of that?”

“I’m  _ not, _ ” Ulquiorra argues, but the heat in his cheeks is unmistakable.

His meager argument only serves to make Bazz laugh and Ulquiorra tries not to grit his teeth at the sound of it. “I figured with four boyfriends you’d be used to getting winked at.”

Truth be told, maybe he should be. Renji does awful things like that all the time.

“It’s not always an easy thing to get used to,” he grouses, his knife hitting the plate hard enough that it makes him jump and Bazz laughs more. “I’m one for two so it’s not like— Oh.”

_ Oh. _ He just let that slip in front of a complete stranger.

“One for two?” And Bazz, of course, misses nothing, which only makes Ulquiorra’s cheeks burn hotter. “Oh, now that I don’t fucking believe. There’s no way anyone on this planet lets a cutie like you go. I’ve seen guys ruin themselves over nothing compared to you.”

“You’d be surprised.” Ulquiorra can even hear how quiet his voice has gotten now, but he isn’t in the diner anymore. He’s sitting at the dining room table, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee quickly growing cold, watching Orihime’s pale, wan face across the table. Watching a hand move across the top of the table to hold hers, silently giving her the strength to continue.

When had she gotten so pale and sickly without him noticing? When had everything started to fall apart around him without him realizing it was going to do so?

Being reassured the others aren’t going to walk away has helped more than he could ever voice if asked to, but now he finds himself reflecting inward instead. Trying to figure out what he did wrong then so he doesn’t risk hurting anyone now. It isn’t about them leaving him so much as it is him waking up one day to find one of them staring at him with those same hollowed, flat eyes because something changed between them without him even realizing it.

Having four partners just means four times as many people to keep an eye on.

“Hey.” Bazz’s voice drops soft and low and Ulquiorra sets his fork and knife down, not sure he can keep eating at this rate. “Hey, Ulquiorra, baby, don’t look so sad. I’m sorry I even brought it up, fuck, I’m such an ass. Hey, just— Okay, hold on.”

Bazz shoves his way into the booth with him, knocking their table aside an inch or two to fit all the way in, arms sliding around Ulquiorra so quickly he can’t even think to guard against it. There was no kidding about his height; Bazz folds around him and over him, blanketing Ulquiorra’s body with his own, hands rubbing up and down his side as Bazz’s cheek comes to rest on top of his head. He’s so  _ warm _ that Ulquiorra closes his eyes and leans into it just to leech some of that body heat. And maybe because he needs it after all, just a little.

He hadn’t been touchy before Grimmjow. Maybe he’s been spoiled for it now.

“I really am sorry,” Bazz whispers against the top of his head. “I’m a fucking idiot sometimes.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head the best he can in his position, patting Bazz gently on the forearm crossed over his chest. “It’s okay. I don’t know why it just slipped out like that.”

“Things sometimes just do, usually when you don’t want them to. Ken’s a good example of that.” Bazz squeezes him once more and it’s much gentler than the hug on the street, which Ulquiorra notes with interest. “I’m not gonna be stupid and tell you to pour your heart out to me because I’m a stranger and you won’t, but if you need to talk to someone, grab one of your boyfriends and do it. Letting that shit fester just makes it get infected, you know?”

He should know. “Thank you. I’ll probably sit down and do that soon. And you did nothing wrong, or rather, not something major. It’s… A little reassuring to hear someone say they don’t understand what happened, at least. Thank you for that.”

Bazz nods and finally backs off, going back to his seat. “Sorry if that freaked you out, by the way. That’s just, Yum is prone to little moments and that’s usually how I calm him down.”

“Yumichika?” Ulquiorra tries not to sound too interested in the topic as he goes back to eating, surprised to find his appetite has returned after all. “You two seem like good friends.”

“He’s all right. I think I’m the one who’s closest to him these days. We’re coming up on the anniversary of when Retsu left the band and so everyone’s a little bit sensitive about it.” Bazz rolls his eyes as if to suggest everyone should be over it by now, and as per usual Ulquiorra says absolutely nothing. “Whatever. He’s here now and I’m happy he’s here. I like money.”

The abruptness of the statement startles Ulquiorra. “Is that all, then?”

“Nah!” Bazz laughs at the idea, as if him only liking someone for such a shallow reason is beyond even him. “I love his personality. He’s so fucking bubbly and loud and obnoxious and he has great energy, and I think that’s why the fans ended up liking him so much even though he’s the exact opposite of Retsu. If you hate Yum, you have to, like… Hate sunshine or something, I dunno. Hate kittens and puppies and shit. I wish the band would chill out, honestly.”

The warmth and fondness he speaks about Yumichika with makes Ulquiorra wonder but he knows better, so he finishes his food instead and they talk more about the logo Bazz wants Ulquiorra to make for him. Already, his mind is surging with ideas and he wants to get home so he can start sketching out ideas. And maybe the package he’d splurged on will arrive, too.

He might have spent a good chunk of the morning waiting for that, too.

Bazz pays and tips extravagantly, and he hugs Giselle goodbye, sweeping her off of her feet and swinging her in a circle that makes her squeal and kick her feet happily. Before Ulquiorra can walk past them, Giselle throws her arms around his shoulders, all but smothering him in an embrace of her own and telling him to come back and see her. And Ulquiorra… Does, and hugs her back because she’s just as warm and comforting as Bazz is.

There’s something about people like that that’s always attracted him. It was why he and Orihime first spoke to each other. He wanted to capture her sunlight on paper.

_ Maybe I should talk to her and get a better perspective on what happened between us. _

“All right, I’ve taken up so much of your time, dude.” Bazz claps him on the back and all but pushes him out onto the sidewalk, the cold air extra chilling after the warmth of the diner. “I don’t wanna take up even  _ more _ of it. That’d be shitty. I hope the food was good. Isn’t Giselle’s food amazing? She always wanted to open up a place of her own like this.”

“It really was amazing. I’ll bring Grimmjow here sometime on a date. He loves smaller locations like this one and I’m sure he’ll love Giselle.” Ulquiorra pauses by his car door, then squares his shoulders and clears his throat. “Thank you for the meal. It was lovely. And so were you.”

Bazz shakes his head and then, of course, leans in to give Ulquiorra a goodbye hug. Because it’s him. “No worries. We all need a hand every now and then, or a hug. I’m good at hugs. Let me know about the logo. I hope the deadline isn’t too soon.”

“It’s not. You picked a good time.” Ulquiorra gives him a friendly squeeze in return and then Bazz lets him go. “I'll text you to let you know how it’s going and I’ll send you rough drafts as I go so we can discuss what you like and dislike. It’ll be done in no time.”

When Bazz smiles with all of his teeth, he’s brighter than the snow laying heavy on the ground around them, bulking up on the sidewalks as it’s swept up from the road. “I’m so excited, man. You have no idea. Thanks so much again for everything, Quiorra.”

Ulquiorra drives home without any problems with ice or snow and breathes a sigh of relief, perking up when he sees a large package waiting on his doorstep as he pulls into the garage. He parks the car and bolts through the apartment to pick up the box, expecting the weight and still surprised by it as he hefts it up off of the stoop and drags it inside, carrying it to the kitchen table so he can unpack it. Grimmjow encouraged him to do something for himself, and he definitely went out of his way to do that this time.

When he was in university, he switched his passions from traditional art to graphic art because the money was good, the process was less messy, and because he was  _ good _ at it and it gave him a sense of pride and exhilaration every time he managed to do exactly what he wanted to do. But he’s been missing traditional and as he starts unpacking the box, he’s excited.

A pack of sketchbooks, plain black so he can paint the covers up the way he wants to. Pencils and fineliners, colored pencils and alcohol markers, a set of paints and some canvases because it’s been a long time but he’s sure he can still do it. There are paint brushes and a glass palette so he can just wash it off as he goes, and something to seal the canvases with when he’s done with the painting. Charcoals, too, his old favorite medium.

He remembers the first time Grimmjow walked in on him drawing with charcoal, remembers the smudges of grey against Grimmjow’s sun-kissed skin when Ulquiorra kissed him and touched him and got it all over the both of them.

After he’s broken down the box and put all of the packing materials into the trash and has opened up everything, throwing away cardboard and plastic as necessary, he picks up a sketchbook, a pencil, and the set of paint. There is something therapeutic about sketching atop the black, the graphite just light enough for him to be able to see it.

When Grimmjow comes home from the gym late into the evening, Ulquiorra has the entire kitchen table covered in art supplies, fingers stained with charcoal and smeared with paint as he finally expels the creative energy that has been prepared to boil over at any moment. A few pages are rough drafts for Bazz’s logo because it felt  _ right _ but right now Ulquiorra has a set of blue alcohol markets sat out next to him, working on blending shadow and highlight in Grimmjow’s hair. His boyfriend smirks up at him from the paper, all strong lines.

“Holy shit, Quiorra.” Grimmjow drops his bag on the floor and walks over, leaning over his shoulder to look down at the paper. “That’s me! You’re drawing me?”

“Of course I am.” Ulquiorra looks up at him and Grimmjow immediately steals a kiss.

He makes Grimmjow let him finish the piece before he’s picked up from the chair, his markers and sketchbook pushed aside so Grimmjow can set him on the edge of the table instead.

This time, Ulquiorra smears him with color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tricked myself into liking bazz a whole lot (my bazz not canon bazz) so i decided to flesh out ulquiorra's development a little bit more and give him something productive to do. also giselle is here now! because kubo did her so, so wrong and i will personally fight him in a coliseum and win.
> 
> it was thanksgiving here today so i want to wish my american readers a happy thanksgiving (and canadian readers i know you've had yours so!). i did most of the cooking and it was super easy.
> 
> time to go reward myself with pie.
> 
> also there's gonna be sexy times in the next chapter~


	23. not all whips have to be scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** some mention of grimmjow's past issues
> 
>  **sexual content:** this chapter is a DOOZY. impact play feat. a riding crop, a flogger, and a kind of whip. subspace. explicit sexual content in the second half? i guess. threesome, oral sex and anal sex and vaginal sex so like the holy trinity. also some sensory deprivation.

“Subspace.” Byakuya stands in front of them in a pair of dark jeans and a pale grey t-shirt, one that matches his eyes. “When you experience a combination of pain and pleasure, your brain responds with the release of endorphins and adrenaline spikes. Both of you are aware of that.”

Sitting between their two submissives, Aizen can only smile as both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra nod, their eyes rapt on their teacher for the evening. Though Aizen could have done this himself with Renji, or brought in a different submissive to demonstrate exactly what he means— Shinji would have been preferable, but he hasn’t been back to Las Noches since his incident with Kensei— it seemed like a better idea to bring Byakuya in and let him demonstrate. Before they hired the multitude of Dominants who now work in Las Noches, they juggled teaching classes with everything else and Byakuya was one of the best.

“Yes, Sir,” Grimmjow and Ulquiorra chorus when Byakuya only gives them a stern look.

The response mollifies him and he gestures with the riding crop in his grasp, the soft leather whipping through the air, making a faint noise as it displaces the air; the sound is mirrored in the way Renji’s shoulders twitch. “Very good. Subspace has been described as a kind of hypnotic trance. It’s very important to use nonverbal safewords in this sense, as speaking can become difficult the further into subspace you venture. At one point, even that is no longer useful.”

Grimmjow visibly tenses and Aizen runs a hand up and down his spine to relax him, smiling when his kitten settles in against his side. “Sir, isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can be with inexperienced Dominants. When a submissive is flying, you want to stop the play, Grimmjow.” Byakuya runs the end of the riding crop beneath Grimmjow’s skin, and he shivers all over, pressing tighter against Aizen. “An experienced Dominant can see when we venture from the trance to flying and knows to stop there and prepare for aftercare.”

Ulquiorra raises his hand and Aizen wants to kiss him. He’s too precious sometimes with his polite manners. “Sir, what kind of nonverbal signals would you use in this case?”

“We have two, just in case.” Byakuya points the crop toward the nightstand. “The hairbrush. Renji will hold onto that and if he drops it, that will be our signal for me to stop and check in on him to make sure he’s doing okay. From there, we’ll use hand squeezes. If he can’t even squeeze my hand, then he’s too far gone.”

Both of them nod and Aizen basks in seeing Byakuya in form like this, completely relaxed in the interior of his private room at Las Noches. Halibel has promised to watch the floor for them tonight— with Nel curled up warm and happy in her lap, no less— so they can have this lesson, and then while Byakuya takes care of Renji, Aizen will swap with her so she can take Nel to subspace as well. Things must be going well on their end.

For as long as Aizen has known her, Halibel has never actively pursued a single woman in any earnesty, choosing to play around with anyone who came to her and expressed interest in her skills as a Dominant. When she first suggested Apacci, Sun-Sung and Mila Rose for their current positions, part of him wondered if she had anything to do with the two of them but in the end, they just turned out to be former roommates that she wanted to put in a good word for. No one else has ever struck him as the type who might suit her calm and quiet personality.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head and returns to watching his husband in action. If he remembers, he might ask her how she and Nelliel have been getting on with each other.

“If the spikes of endorphins are too sudden or too high, you can drop from them. It’s intense.” Byakuya pauses, letting that sink in. “But of course, one of us will always be here for you.”

“Tell them what a drop entails more clearly,” Aizen says, and Byakuya nods and straightens.

“Sub drop is when you exhaust your brain of the chemicals it releases. It’s like a form of withdrawal, and it can be difficult to handle on your own. Which is why you will never have to, I can assure you of that.” Byakuya takes a step closer to Renji, picks the heavy weight of his braid up off of his shoulder, curling it around his fingers as he speaks; Renji’s pupils dilate and his spine straightens that much more. “Physically, you can feel off, or tired, or sore. You might have slight tremors. Emotionally, you can feel lonely, unloved, abandoned. It’s difficult.”

Grimmjow presses his lips together into a thin line and this time Ulquiorra stiffens, his expression distrustful as he leans further into Aizen’s side. Gently, Aizen wraps an arm around him and kisses the side of his head, whispering against his ear until he sighs softly and relaxes once more. As Byakuya promised, neither of them would ever have to handle it on their own.

After all, they have two Dominants who adore them who want to take care of them.

Byakuya notices, though, and kneels down in front of Ulquiorra, fingers slipping beneath his chin, thumb smoothing over his lower lip. “I want you to know that if you fall, we will catch you. One of us will always be there to care for you. Remember the bath? We are here for you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Ulquiorra kisses his fingers and Byakuya rewards him with a radiant smile.

“Of course, my love.” Byakuya stands and smacks the riding crop against the palm of his hand; the sound cracks through the room and all three subs drop. Aizen only smiles. “Now, subspace itself. I’m not going to be able to continuously tell you what you’re seeing while I’m doing this, so if you have questions, ask Sosuke. Quietly, please murmur. Subspace will narrow your focus down to you and your Dominant, and he needs my focus and attention.”

“Yes, Sir,” Grimmjow and Ulquiorra once again say in unison.

Byakuya produces a black scarf from his back pocket, doubling it over with an expert touch. “Renji, I’m going to cut your line of sight so that the sensations are stronger.”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji doesn’t even hesitate; he even perks up a little.

Aizen smiles warmly at him, keeps his arm around Ulquiorra and settles the other around Grimmjow’s waist as he watches. The three of them are leaning against a pile of pillows in the corner of the room so that Byakuya and Renji have the entire rest of the floor to work with. Byakuya has even moved the bed into the opposite corner to maximize his space, and while the dungeon floor itself has the most space, none of them wanted to share this with an audience. It was a lesson just for their boys and no one else had the privilege of watching it.

“Impact play is something Renji enjoys.” Byakuya ties the blindfold around Renji’s eyes with sure and precise movements and though Aizen can’t see it, he knows the moment Byakuya presses the hairbrush into Renji’s hands. “You’ll get to see what it’s capable of in the hands of the right person today. Renji, what signals are we using for safewords?”

“Dropping the hairbrush means you stop and check on me and not being able to squeeze your hands means we stop, Sir,” Renji says firmly, though a breathy quality has entered his voice.

He’s so attuned to Byakuya, his head tilting just slightly in the direction he thinks Byakuya is moving behind him, trying to find his location probably without even consciously thinking about it. Their rhythm is unmistakable; Aizen wants that with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.

The only person he’s ever developed it with is Shinji.

“I’m going to cycle through different implements, ones that offer more and more intense sensation. No bullwhips, though. I have a special whip that might be more suited to your tastes, something to foster a good memory with.” Byakuya meets Grimmjow’s eyes and Grimmjow beams up at him. He hasn’t gotten over his trepidation with them yet, and Aizen doesn’t think he will. It’s fine, though; neither of them are going to pressure him. “We agreed on all of this last night when we discussed this in great detail, so don’t be worried I’m going too hard on him.”

If the Dominants from their first club saw the men they had grown into being, Aizen is almost sure he could script their disappointments by heart.  _ You’re bringing them up too soft, you’re talking too much, it doesn’t have to take this long. _ But it does; Grimmjow and Ulquiorra need the attention, the care, the detail and the effort put into making sure they know everything is safe and thought-out before walking into it. There is plenty to be said for spontaneity, but shoving two men into things too quickly is not going to make it easier on either of them to process.

BDSM is far from all physical. Those Dominants should take the time to learn that.

Byakuya drapes Renji’s braid over one shoulder and comes to stand behind him, tapping the riding crop against his palm as he stares down Renji’s back. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, husky— Not for them. Relegating them to the role of spectators.

“The riding crop to begin with, sub.” Byakuya takes a step forward and Renji’s breathing trips at the sound, his head falling forward. Giving Byakuya the unobstructed view. “We’ll go from there.”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji’s shoulders twitch, a barely-there sign of his anticipation over what is to come.

When Byakuya stills, holding his position, breathing calm and even, Renji stills as well, trying to listen for him. Trying to figure out where he is and what he is doing. “Do you trust me to know when enough is enough for you when it becomes impossible for you to tell me?”

“Of course, Sir.” Renji tilts his head to the left and back, turning it just enough as if trying to get Byakuya in the corner of his currently diminished sight. “We’ve done it before. I trust you.”

“We have, haven’t we?” Byakuya slips the crop just under Renji’s chin and Renji just stops breathing, frozen, like he’s been hooked. “Let’s make this another memorable night.”

When he takes the crop away and ceases all contact, Renji falters for just a moment, and Aizen knows he doesn’t  _ need _ the coddling, not really, but he likes it just the same and it takes him a second to gather himself before he returns to proper position, head tilted forward, the hard lines of his shoulders relaxed. He’s probably got a death grip on the brush just the same.

Byakuya watches him silently, paces back and forth before the muscles in his arms flex.

The first strike of the riding crop against his back is subtle but both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra jolt when he does, their breathing tripping just the slightest bit. In contrast, Aizen is serene. He watches Byakuya walk half-circles around Renji, all poised grace and beauty, his arm moving quick through the air to smack the small piece of leather against Renji’s bare skin. It’s a gorgeous sound that Aizen knows all too well, made more tantalizing by the way Renji bites down hard on his lower lip, a reminder to remain still. When Byakuya tells him he can move, then he can move, but otherwise he must let Byakuya do what he wishes to him.

It doesn’t hurt enough to move Renji’s body, not yet, but he still reacts to every lick of the crop against his back. Shoulders jumping, breath hitching, thighs twitching. Aizen knows the sensation; Shinji wouldn’t let him come anywhere close with the crop until Aizen experienced it first, wanting him to know exactly what it was going to feel like so he would be ready.

“Very good, sub.” The riding crop comes down harder and Renji chokes with it, his shoulders twitching in response. “Your skin shows up red and pink in such an interesting way because of the tattoos. It makes me feel like I have to work just a little harder.”

Another  _ thwack _ and Renji makes a breathy, almost audible groan.

“But I like a challenge.” Byakuya stands quiet for a moment, perfectly measured, and then strikes Renji hard enough that his entire body rocks with the motion.

Aizen watches them, rapt. He might as well not even be here at the moment. On one side of him, Grimmjow is sat up and watching closely, face set into a serious expression even as a slight flush enters his cheeks, his pupils dilating visibly with every strike of the crop. Ulquiorra is quieter, knees up against his chest, the overly long sleeves of his sweater pressed against his mouth to hide it from view, but his gaze is intent. He’s watching carefully.

With his arms around both of his boys, watching them take pleasure in watching this, Aizen feels like a king. Nothing can get much better than this.

That is, of course, until one of them is kneeling at his feet and taking this kind of play. Flushing and breathy, taking every stroke he gives them thankfully, trusting him to take them somewhere they’ve never been before, guiding them along another new path.

He’ll enjoy the entire experience as he does every time they give him a chance.

“You’re handling this very good, sub. But…” Byakuya trails off, brings the riding crop to his mouth and bites down on the leather. Grimmjow swallows  _ hard _ and Aizen smirks; Renji might be slowly forgetting he has an audience, but Byakuya would never  _ truly _ forget. “You’re far too quiet for me, and you know how I feel about lots of noise.”

The next strike is hard and it pulls a startled cry from Renji’s lips, his back bowing.

“That’s more like it.” Byakuya preens and Aizen hides a smile in Ulquiorra’s hair. “Let’s do that again until I’m sure your lips are loose enough to please me sufficiently.”

The riding crop is only a warm-up piece for what is coming and Aizen rubs slow, soothing circles into Grimmjow’s hips when Byakuya finally decides he’s done enough groundwork with it and picks up the flogger. The black elk hide looks intimidating and wicked but Byakuya only shakes the fronds out, making sure all of them are untangled before flicking them out into the air, the  _ snap _ making Renji jump and moan even though Byakuya hasn’t touched him yet.

“Just warming up, sub.” Byakuya makes it a point to snap the air around Renji so he can feel it, smirking when Renji jumps and tilts his head, following the movements. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” Renji’s voice, usually enthusiastic, is soft and subdued right now.

Byakuya strikes him without another word, the fronds snapping against his skin and wringing a soft, small cry from his lips. Renji’s back arches and Aizen can see his throat working as he swallows, the way his chest heaves with every breath he takes.

There’s also no mistaking the fact he’s hard beneath the pair of boxer briefs he’s wearing, his erection straining against the black fabric. It might even be damp in the front.

“ _ Very _ pretty,” Byakuya croons, and then he strikes Renji again and again.

Grimmjow visibly tenses up, turning concerned eyes to Aizen, his voice coming out low and soft like he’s remembered to do. “Doesn’t that hurt? It’s a whip, isn’t it?”

“It’s a flogger, which is a kind of whip,” Aizen admits, because he gets no points for lying or trying to make this seem like less than it is. Grimmjow made bullwhips a hard limit, and they all accepted it, but he was open to other options if a little concerned; they need to be honest. “They can cause pain if the participant desires that, but not all contact is meant to be painful. Their lightest touch can stimulate your nerves and warm your skin. It can sting, just a little. Not every strike has to be at full strength. You haven’t seen Byakuya at his yet.”

The submissive who trained Byakuya could take him at full strength; not everyone can, and Renji is still working his way up to it though that level of pain is something he wants to explore. Aizen remembers watching Byakuya and Ashido together, watching the floggers and whips and all sorts of impact toys in Byakuya’s capable hands. He’s always been good with them.

Renji’s noises— cries and moans and groans— seem to reach a climax before tapering off into smaller, more subdued sounds. Quieter, some not even audible.

It’s slow but steady, the careful manipulation of endorphins and adrenaline, the way Byakuya handles all of this with poise and grace and a calculation so shrewd it would startle anyone if he converted that to his business life as well. It’s a careful thing, taking someone to subspace and making sure they do not drop along the way, something they always try to prevent even though it can happen seemingly out of nowhere when everything was going fine.

Aizen will be just as careful with his boys, should they choose to let him do this.

He also knows Byakuya is training to use two floggers, a technique that takes a lot of skill and a careful, measured, steady rhythm. Like now, every flick of his wrist, every movement of his arm, carefully timed so that it almost sounds like a drumbeat, perfect and smooth. Renji’s cries are an irregular rhythm; a song only the two of them can create together.

Byakuya drapes the fronds over Renji’s shoulder, letting them drag over his chest with the lightest touch, no doubt warmed from striking his skin over and over. “I’m pleased so far, but go farther with me. I think there’s still terrain left to explore together.”

He runs a hand over the skin he’d just teased and Renji presses into his touch, giggling faintly when Byakuya’s fingers trace up the side of his face and along his hairline before drifting away entirely. A small frustrated noise leaves his lips; Aizen echoes Byakuya’s smile.

Slowly but surely…

The dragon tongue whip has Grimmjow tensing up all over again but it’s Ulquiorra who speaks, eyeing the implement uncertainly. “Sir, what is that? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“A dragon tongue is a form of whip that leaves triangle-shaped marks. The ones I own are soft and less of an issue than Byakuya’s favorite. Not as firm.” Aizen tilts his head, presses a kiss to Grimmjow’s jaw, nips the skin until he sighs and closes his eyes. “Brave sub. I wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t ask me to do it and you can always say no.”

Byakuya smacks the dragon tongue against his palm and the sound is much louder and more pronounced than any before. Dragon tongues can be made of fabrics and often are, or soft and flexible leathers, ones that are you can bend back and forth with ease but Byakuya’s are made of saddle leather and the  _ crack _ it makes against his own skin in just a test smack is enough to make everyone jump once more. He beams at the sound, brandishing the dragon tongue in Aizen’s direction in a silent challenge; Aizen only smirks at him in return.

They’ve been playing this game for as long as he can remember and he supposes they’re going to keep playing it for the duration of their relationship with one another.

He still takes his time showing off with the whip, always cognizant of Grimmjow watching him, fingers showing that the leather does, indeed, bend back and forth. More than a paddle would for certain but enough that each crack can hurt quite a bit depending on how much force is used. The first time Byakuya ever used it at full force in front of him, Aizen had half-curled into himself with how overcome with lust he’d been, the way Ashido all but screamed.

The sound and the sight took his breath away then. It still does now.

Poised steps carry Byakuya around to stand in front of Renji, at an angle so they can still see him; the tapered tip of the dragon tongue catches him under the chin and he leans into it, face flushed, mouth slack. As Aizen watches, a trickle of drool runs from the corner of his mouth.

He’s close. Byakuya knows him better than anyone else and is a master at this without that.

“We’re almost there.” Byakuya takes the whip away and Renji slumps forward, half-gasping at the sudden brush of contact, the sudden lack of it. “You will take this for me, sub.”

Each step back behind Renji is casual and when he strikes, it’s with the fluid grace and deadly intent of a viper, the leather cracking against Renji’s back so hard it echoes in the room. There’s silence for a breathless moment and then Renji groans pitifully, shoulders folding in on themselves, and Aizen realizes he hasn’t heard him drop the brush yet.

His limits are expanding, then. Byakuya must have been hard at work with him about this.

“Straighten up, sub.” Byakuya draws the tongue down his back, a light touch until Renji wheezes and forces himself to straighten once more. “I won’t bear down on you. You know that.”

Ulquiorra’s fingers find Aizen’s wrist and tighten around it, his grip panicky. “That looks like it hurts so much. Does he really like it like that?”

“He does,” Aizen reassures him, kissing his temple. “You might not. In fact, if it frightens you, we can lay this version down as a hard limit. But you should see mine before you decide against the entire style of whip. Not all of them are made the same, as I said.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ulquiorra tilts his head, presses a very soft kiss against Aizen’s cheek.

He can almost feel the blaze in Byakuya’s gaze before he turns his head back around, smirking when he realizes Byakuya’s attention shifted for just a second between blows, giving Renji time to straighten up once more. Every stroke of the dragon tongue bends his body forward and Byakuya lets him; he might have had another sub remain still and in proper posture.

But Renji leans into the blows just slightly before they come, trying to anticipate because he likes the way they bend him. Even as the pain settles beneath his skin, he seeks more.

When Byakuya pauses to run the tip of the whip along Renji’s shoulders, he giggles and squirms, and he sounds exhausted, body slick with sweat, shoulders sagging under the weight of what he feels right now. Byakuya murmurs to him, words only the two of them can hear, walking around him in a circle, trailing the leather along his skin. When he steps behind him once more he hits him so hard that Renji bends in half, groaning long and shameless.

It makes Aizen uncomfortably aware of just how aroused he’s getting from watching.

Byakuya swoops down a breath later and Aizen sees the brush go skittering away out of reach, soft pale hands soothing Renji’s flushed and hot skin. They disappear behind him and Aizen waits to see the response, unsurprised when Byakuya stands, wipes his no doubt sweaty palm on his jeans before wrapping it around the whip once more.

Renji passed the test. He isn’t done yet, but he must be close by the way Byakuya’s expression hardens, determined to get through the last stretch of this for both of them. When he strikes Renji once more, a broken keening sound leaves Renji’s lips. With effort, he straightens up.

“What are his limits?” Grimmjow murmurs, and Aizen looks at him.

“His limits are his own,” he says, and Grimmjow furrows his eyebrows, which meant Aizen wasn’t answering the question the way he was asking it or the way he expected it. “Only he and Byakuya truly know. But do you see how they’re feeding off of each other? Byakuya is keeping a careful eye on him and making sure nothing exceeds what he can handle. All is well.”

Three more harsh swats are all Renji can take before Byakuya tosses the whip aside carelessly, sinking down onto his knees behind Renji once more; he fails the squeeze test this time and Byakuya pulls him back into his arms, supporting his weight with ease. Renji goes easily, pliant and exhausted, worn thin from what he was able to take. Wordlessly, Aizen stands to turn the dimmer switch as low as it will go before Byakuya removes the blindfold.

Renji’s eyes are heavily lidded but when Aizen can see of his eyes is dilated pupils swallowing up the brown of his irises. With ease, Byakuya has him up off of the floor and onto the bed, and Aizen crooks a finger at his boys; the two of them need their peace and quiet now.

As soon as he closes the door behind him, Grimmjow is pressed up against his back, arms curling around his waist. “Sir,” he whines, nuzzling the back of Aizen’s neck. “Please, I’m—”

“I know, kitten.” The nickname comes easily and Grimmjow moans against the back of his neck, almost rutting against his ass. So the dragon tongue hadn’t scared him away after all.

Aizen scans Ulquiorra's expression, mouth slack and eyes lidded, a flush decorating the height of his cheekbones. When Aizen cups his cheek to gauge his temperature, Ulquiorra whines desperately and presses into his touch, gripping Aizen’s wrist with both hands.

That decides it. He lets Ulquiorra hold onto his wrist, seizes Grimmjow by the arm, and drags them across the hallway to where his room is waiting for the three of them.

“What are the safewords?” he asks, shutting the door behind him, fingers already tugging at the buttons on his shirt. “Grimmjow, what is the first one and what is its use?”

Grimmjow seems to wobble on his feet at the loss of contact but snaps back to attention rather quickly. “Yellow. For when we need you to slow down or pause to check in on us.”

“Ulquiorra, the other one,” Aizen says, shrugging out of his shirt, folding it in half.

“Red,” Ulquiorra murmurs, voice soft and breathy. “For when we need all activity to cease.”

“Excellent.” Aizen takes a deep breath to gather himself, then snaps his fingers; the way both of them immediately look into his eyes says it all; he can even see the slightest wobble in both of their knees and it makes his stomach quake with excitement. “Undress each other. No kissing, no unnecessary touching. Your bodies are mine tonight and the only pleasure you will receive will be at my discretion. Be neat and careful. Roughness will earn punishment.”

Grimmjow moves first, pulling Ulquiorra’s sweater off with exquisite care, kneeling down to unfasten his jeans and help him step out of them, just as careful with his underwear. Aizen can see the desire to touch written all over his face, especially when he sees how hard Ulquiorra is, the tip of his cock already damp. Oh, his boys only needed one little show to get to this point? He wonders what would happen if he let them watch one of the professional shows.

Or if he took one of them up onto the stage with him…

Ulquiorra is just as careful and precise, helping Grimmjow out of his clothes, having to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the face by his cock. The pink of his tongue peeks out from between his lips for a moment as he looks at it and then he stands, hands folded neatly.

Aizen’s good boys, following his commands to a T.

“On the bed, Grimmjow. Lay your head on the pillow and get comfortable. You’ll be spending quite a bit of time there.” Aizen points and Grimmjow moves, and it should be impossible for a man with that kind of serious bulk to move with such grace, but he does. “Ulquiorra, you’re going to suck his cock. Do not go easy on him. He’ll just have to control it.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ulquiorra nods firmly and Aizen smiles softly at him. His good boy.

The fact he can entirely disrobe in front of them without feeling any uncertainty or fear certainly is a novel thing to him, though less so than the moment he pulls himself up onto the bed, making himself comfortable with his knees bracketing Grimmjow’s head. All he can see from this angle are those blue eyes he’s come to love, but he doesn’t let Grimmjow move just yet, turning his head to see Ulquiorra settling between Grimmjow’s thighs, legs tossed to the side over one of Grimmjow’s own, hair pulled back into a ponytail so it doesn’t get in his way. Ulquiorra is not physically delicate by any means but he looks it next to Grimmjow.

The contrast in their skin— Grimmjow’s warm hues against Ulquiorra’s porcelain— is beautiful. Emerald eyes meet his own before Ulquiorra leans down, swiping his tongue over the head of Grimmjow’s cock like he might a particularly sweet piece of candy.

Below Aizen, Grimmjow swears softly, but he stays perfectly still.

“Very good.” Aizen slips a hand into his hair, fingers combing the messy locks back before he gives them a slight tug. “You don’t to orgasm until I tell you to. Either of you. Put your mouth to work, Grimmjow. Show your appreciation for the invitation I extended to you and that I thought to ask my husband and his submissive to demonstrate such a thing for you.”

Grimmjow audibly groans and then leans up, his mouth like heaven against Aizen’s skin, lips and tongue working together to bring him the pleasure he deserves. Even with Ulquiorra’s ministrations, Grimmjow doesn’t slow down, only stops to breathe sporadically before diving back in with renewed vigor as if trying to make up for the precious seconds spent away. Aizen’s hands, resting on the headboard for balance, dig into the wood like a lifeline.

“More, sub,” he rasps and Grimmjow groans against his skin, the vibration tearing a groan from Aizen’s throat as he rolls his hips down against Grimmjow’s face, thighs flexing against his head. “Give me what I deserve and I’ll give you what you want.”

He cranes his head back to watch Ulquiorra, who bobs on Grimmjow’s cock with an ease that’s come with the years, the soft and wet sounds of sucking and slurping reaching Aizen’s ears even over the obscene sounds Grimmjow makes between his thighs. It makes him burn hotter, throbbing and growing wetter by the second. He’s dizzy, not sure what he wants from this.

No, he knows what he wants. He’s going to trust them as they trust him.

His eyes meet Grimmjow’s just as his sub leans up to lap against his clit, sucking on it hard enough that Aizen’s eyes almost cross from the pressure. He’s close already and Grimmjow never slows once, tongue thrusting wet and hot inside of him, dragging back over his clit in a maddening rhythm that splinters Aizen’s control, has him clamping his thighs tight around Grimmjow’s head as his orgasm floods his body with white hot flame.

“Ulquiorra.” The sound of his name is enough to make Ulquiorra stop, meeting Aizen’s eyes as he wipes the spit off of his mouth. “Switch places with Grimmjow.”

Hazy green eyes seem to grow foggier with the command but Ulquiorra nods and Grimmjow moves, helps him stretch out on the mattress before he looks to Aizen for his own command. In answer, Aizen wraps a hand around the back of his neck and draws him in closer, kissing the wetness off of his mouth, sucking it off of his tongue until Grimmjow goes slack beneath his hand. Just like he should. Even now, untouched, Ulquiorra whimpers softly up at them both.

Aizen has been thinking about this ever since Byakuya described their scene in vivid detail.

“I’m going to open you up for Grimmjow’s cock.” Aizen strokes a hand down the inside of Ulquiorra’s thigh, watches those pretty pink lips open and close around aborted little sounds. “And I’m going to ride you. Can you take both of us, Ulquiorra?”

“Yes, Sir.” His voice comes out hoarse and breaks on the second syllable. Perfect.

“Lubricant in the top drawer, Grimmjow,” Aizen says, settling between Ulquiorra’s thighs. “Bring two, just in case. You’re going to open me up with your fingers.”

Grimmjow makes a choked sound in his throat but nods. “Yes, Sir.”

Having such perfect control is what Aizen needs right now and he utilizes it, giving Ulquiorra all of the attention he needs as he stretches him with his fingers. He’s tight but he opens well, completely unguarded and willing, not a single muscle in his body tensing up and making this difficult. Aizen praises him around soft little gasps, his own thighs spread wide enough to accommodate Grimmjow’s hand, those callused and thick fingers spearing him open. It’s good, because he needs it. Ulquiorra might be short, but he’s not small by any means.

“Be gentle with him,” Aizen commands, his breath hitching just a little when Ulquiorra’s body bows at the touch of his fingers curling against his prostate. “Roughness will be punished.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow noses the side of his neck, but Aizen allows it just this once.

He lets Grimmjow go first, watches as he slicks his cock and works just the flared head past Ulquiorra’s rim, wet with lube and flushed red from Aizen’s insistent touch. Ulquiorra’s thighs tremble and he moans, low and long, rolls his hips to meet Grimmjow’s tentative movements.

The two of them really are a perfectly matched set. Aizen is so lucky.

Once Grimmjow is inside, Aizen straddles Ulquiorra’s hips and Grimmjow’s hands are there to steady him; he wraps a hand around Ulquiorra’s cock, meeting those beautiful eyes as he sinks down slowly, letting himself open up around the thickness. Ulquiorra, who kept his boundaries in place and his walls up, stares up at him now with eyes slightly damp and overflowing with gratitude and affection, and it makes no small part of Aizen’s heart beat faster.

They trust him, and so he trusts them. He has nothing to be afraid of, now with these men.

Grimmjow presses against his back and Aizen wraps a hand around the back of his neck to keep him close. “Fuck him, but gently, while I ride him. Ulquiorra, the two of us will orgasm first, but the moment we do, you are free to take what you need to come as well.”

“Yes, Sir.” There’s not even a hint of hesitance in his voice, no sign of pouting.

The heavy weight of his cock is perfect inside like this and Aizen sighs, eyes drifting shut as he allows his body to find a rhythm, the steady rise and fall as his body accommodates to Ulquiorra’s size. He’s large enough that he rubs against everything in the best way and Aizen purrs, head falling back against Grimmjow’s shoulder, squeezing his internal muscles tight around Ulquiorra just to hear him gasp and moan at the friction.

“You feel so good inside of me.” Aizen leans down to touch his face, wiping away a stray tear; it must be maddening, both of them using his body like this, but Ulquiorra flushes and squirms and kisses Aizen’s palm, laps over it eagerly with his tongue. Such a good boy. “I could stay like this all day. One day, I might. Put a cock ring on you so it’s harder for you to come.”

“Please, Sir.” Ulquiorra nips at his fingers and Aizen lets him. “I w-want that. So much, Sir.”

Aizen chuckles softly, presses his fingers down on Ulquiorra’s tongue just to feel the muscle twitch under his touch. “Be a good boy for me and you’ll get everything you want.”

Grimmjow moans from behind him and his hips shift, rocking into Ulquiorra just a little faster but not harder, never harder, because he’s doing his very best to be good. “S-Sir, I’m—”

“You’re close?” Aizen gives his head a jerk and Grimmjow blankets his back, pressing him down against Ulquiorra’s chest. “Kiss him. Come inside of him and kiss him to say thank you.”

The angle isn’t perfect but Grimmjow does as asked and Aizen can feel every movement of his larger body as he trembles and jolts and jerks with his orgasm, moaning wet and sloppy into Ulquiorra’s mouth. When he draws out, Aizen straightens back up, settles his full weight down on Ulquiorra’s cock and hissing at how it just seems to slip a centimeter or two deeper.

“Are you ready, sub?” he asks, and Ulquiorra nods fervently up at him. “Try to come with me.”

He fucks himself on Ulquiorra’s cock with cruel slowness, enjoying the slow build, his flesh already swollen and sensitive from one orgasm. Ulquiorra’s hips rise to meet his own when he comes back down each other, a teasing pressure that has him gasping softly before he means, grinding himself down against Ulquiorra’s hips. He can feel Ulquiorra throbbing inside of him, so close and yet so far, and squeezes tight around him once more.

Ulquiorra fucks up into him desperately and Aizen closes his eyes, glorying in how it feels as his second orgasm nearly bowls him over. He cries out with the force of it and Ulquiorra groans beneath him, and he can feel the heat seeping into his body. Exhausted, he lifts himself off and lies down on the mattress, unsurprised when Grimmjow curls up next to him.

“My good boys,” he whispers. “I’m so proud of both of you. Come here for just a moment.”

Grimmjow half-sprawls on top of him and Ulquiorra tucks himself against Aizen’s side, and he holds both of them close, murmuring to them, watching Grimmjow’s lips twitch into tiny smiles while Ulquiorra closes his eyes, his breathing soft and slow.

Aizen feels so calm, so at peace. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

Which only reminds him that he and Byakuya still have that impending conversation to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe this chapter came out this long because i was really laboring to get through the first half and then i started listening to my playlist of anime music (i. i know.) and the second half just flew by. also i just really like writing this threesome so.
> 
> you guys should try to figure out what this conversation must be about. i mentioned that byakuya and aizen were called away to the hospital so go from there.
> 
> also i'm so glad you guys liked bazz and giselle. i love them so much even if kubo doesn't.


	24. a family is four walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** nothing super triggering or anything but it's a very long and hard conversation and the topic of death and cancer comes up
> 
> **sexual content:** none

“What did you think about the first draft?” Ulquiorra sits perched at the bar, his cell phone set on speaker as his fingers fly over his keyboard, no doubt answering the handful of commission emails he needs to work his way through today. “I know it looks strangely proportioned, as I was inspired in the heat of the moment by some traditional supplies, but if I scan it, then I can—”

_ “Don’t do that!”  _ Laughter follows the exclamation.  _ “It looks  _ amazing _. There’s a couple of colors I’d like changed around but I think the fact it’s not perfect makes it seem more like me.” _

Grimmjow watches the conversation from the kitchen table, working his way through his plate of breakfast and his cup of juice. When he woke up, Ulquiorra was already showered and dressed and working in the kitchen, the warm sunlight filtering in through the glass panes on the back door and filling the kitchen with soft golden light. The last few mornings have been like this; Grimmjow had been fucking shocked when he went through Ulquiorra’s sketchbook and found the beginnings of what looked like logo sketches, ones he knows well because Ulquiorra has never been shy about sharing his creative process.

He usually pins Grimmjow down and shoves his tablet into Grimmjow’s face, frantically asking for his opinions on things, everything from shape to composition to color palette.

It’s useless asking him. He thinks everything Ulquiorra does is magical.

But the logo sketches had  _ Bazzard Black _ written into the logo and Grimmjow doesn’t remember the two of them having a proper conversation at the house, only chatting for a bit here and there before Ulquiorra excused himself to bed. While they were washing marker splotches off of their skin after their impromptu table sex, Ulquiorra told him about the job Bazz offered him and the lunch they had together. He made a note of the diner so Grimmjow could come with him sometime, citing it as a place he might like to visit.

For what it’s worth, Grimmjow adores his boyfriend. Taking the time to remember the location so they could go back to it later in the middle of a business proposition with a famous musician is just out of this world and he still wants to reward Ulquiorra for it at some point.

“Oh, I can do that.” Ulquiorra drags a notepad closer to his elbow, picks up a discarded cheap pen and clicks the end of it. “Rattle off what you want and I’ll do it.”

Bazz hums into the phone.  _ “You’re the best person I’ve ever had to work with, I hope you know.” _

Grimmjow kisses the top of Ulquiorra’s head as he cleans up the kitchen; Ulquiorra had been kind enough to cook them both breakfast, the smells of which woke Grimmjow from his slumber at long last. When he doesn’t have work, he likes to sleep in as late as his body will let him, and today is no different. It isn’t a typical day off for him, just moving a few appointments around and citing family issues that have cropped up. It’s just Byakuya and Aizen wanting to talk about something, but it seems important to the both of them.

Maybe, just maybe, Grimmjow is a little nervous about what they have to say.

When Ulquiorra hangs up the phone, he breathes a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe he liked the traditional sketches. I thought they were awful, but now that’s what he wants.”

“That’s good, right? Validation for your traditional skills and whatnot.” Grimmjow glances toward the corner of the kitchen where Ulquiorra has sorted and stored his art supplies.

“Mm, that’s true. I just hadn’t done it in so long and then one of my paying customers said he liked it. I was just shocked.” Ulquiorra shuts his laptop screen and fumbles with the charge cord for a moment, turning around to look up at Grimmjow. “Did you hear the great news?  _ Los Lobos _ did so well commercially, financially, and even overseas once it reached internal Netflix that they’re going to make a second movie. I can’t imagine anything better than that.”

The deadpan tone of Ulquiorra’s voice is the only thing that keeps Grimmjow from flying off of the handle right away. “ _ Another _ one? But they resolved all the plot points in the first one. Oh my God.” Grimmjow scrubs a hand over his face, muffling a groan against his palm.

“You don’t have to watch it,” Ulquiorra reminds him with a small smile.

“But I’ve already seen the first one so obviously I have to see how this plays out.” Grimmjow presses his palms together and closes his eyes. “Please, gods of acting and talent, teach Starrk how to actually have chemistry with his romantic lead for once in his life.”

Ulquiorra laughs and Grimmjow cracks open an eyelid to smile at him before he takes Ulquiorra’s hands in his own. “So, you ready to do this? Have this big talk?”

“I don’t know,” Ulquiorra confesses, and the smile on his face fades slightly, which is a sobering sight. It makes Grimmjow’s stomach twist into uncomfortable knots all over again. “I thought we’d talked through most of our issues and gotten them out of the way, but Byakuya sounded so grave over the phone when he asked us if we had time. Like something is very wrong.”

Grimmjow nods; he hadn’t been there for that phone call, had come home from a slightly frustrating session with Hiyori to find that Ulquiorra was worrying himself to death over what this might mean for all of them. Nothing has gone wrong so far; everyone has been happy and satisfied with things, all of them settling into somewhat of a routine. He and Ulquiorra have been back to the big house since the first time, have spent a weekend there when they finally had the time and God, if that hadn’t just made everything in Grimmjow’s chest light up. Waking up between Ulquiorra and Renji is a surprisingly soothing position.

But he won’t pretend he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. “If we’d done something wrong, I think they would have told us. Remember, this is just like me freaking out over Sosuke.”

Ulquiorra narrows his eyes up at him and heaves a sigh. “Can you take this seriously? This seems a lot more weighted than that. I’ve never heard Byakuya sound like that before.”

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want to argue, not when Ulquiorra is obviously quite upset over this, but it makes him wonder where that would have come from. Anxiety he can understand, but it seems like he should be relaxed about their relationship now. “I’ll trust you that he did sound upset on the phone because I wasn’t here, remember? I never heard the phone call.”

“No, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Ulquiorra steps closer to him, presses his cheek against Grimmjow’s chest, slender arms slipping around his waist. “I’m just worried.”

“‘Course you are, Quiorra. It’s who you are.” Grimmjow kisses the top of his head and hugs him back, listening to the soft content little noises he makes at the contact.

They share a slow, lingering kiss before collecting their things to leave; Grimmjow takes the keys to drive and opens Ulquiorra’s car door for him because he can and because he loves the disgruntled little expression he gets before Ulquiorra settles into the seat. While Ulquiorra was thoughtful enough to make breakfast, Grimmjow made sure to utilize the remote start on their car just before they left so the interior is warm, fighting away the winter chill and giving Ulquiorra some reprieve from how difficult it is for him to stay warm in the winter.

“This is going to be fine, right?” Ulquiorra asks him. “It’s serious but it’s not bad.”

Grimmjow nods slowly. “I think that’s about the size of it, yes. It’s going to be okay.”

“Right. Of course.” Ulquiorra leans back into his seat, dark lashes feathered over his eyes. “I’m going to nap on the ride there, then. Maybe I’ll be calmer when we arrive.”

“I got you.” Grimmjow picks up his phone and sets one of the playlists he’s made to help Ulquiorra sleep to play, hoping it’ll do its part in helping him calm down.

The drive to the house is not a particularly long one but it’s enough for Ulquiorra to nap, so Grimmjow lets him be while he follows what has become a familiar pathway of streets, weaving between cars as necessary and enjoying the soothing music. Everything is going to be fine, of that he has no doubt; Byakuya and Aizen just need to talk about something that the five of them will discuss like rational adults and come to a conclusion on. Just the same, Grimmjow isn’t going to downplay the fact Ulquiorra is obviously anxious about this. He might not understand why, but it’s nothing like the uncertainty that makes him hesitant.

Maybe they can sit down and talk about it soon and decide if Ulquiorra should go talk to someone about it, someone who might be able to offer him some guidance and professional help should he want it. Or just find some ideas about how they can manage his symptoms.

Renji’s car is already parked in the driveway when Grimmjow pulls up and he turns the music off, leaning over to gently shake Ulquiorra awake. It takes a minute for those pretty green eyes to open up, Ulquiorra yawning and stretching the best he can in the space before he unbuckles his seatbelt and offers Grimmjow a soft smile.  _ Someone’s feeling better now. _

Byakuya greets them at the door with kisses. “Sorry for being so cryptic about all of this,” he says, and he doesn’t look half as worried as either of them feel until Grimmjow meets his eyes; storm cloud grey fogged over with uncertainty. “We’re all sitting in the kitchen right now.”

Aizen stands to greet them, too, and Grimmjow spends a good, long time getting a thorough kiss out of him. Ulquiorra hugs him tight and then they settle down at the table, Renji offering them a lazy smile and a wave of the hand. He looks  _ exhausted _ but it’s been, what, just a week since his scene with Byakuya. It’s very likely he’s still feeling the effects of it.

“So I had a family emergency that the two of you were vaguely made aware of. I didn’t even go into finer details about it with Renji until recently.” Byakuya moves through the kitchen as he speaks, setting mugs of coffee down in front of them before taking his own seat. “When I was in college, I dated a woman briefly, just a few months. Her name was Hisana, and it was with her that I realized I was not particularly interested in women.”

“Shit,” Grimmjow breathes, wincing. He can only imagine how that must have gone down.

Byakuya waves a hand at him. “It’s fine. Hisana understood, and we remained friends. She’s been going through difficult times lately. I hadn’t realized just how serious until recently.”

“The hospital,” Ulquiorra breathes. “She was the one who was in the hospital. Is she okay?”

Silence drags out between the five of them and then Aizen shakes his head, wrapping his arm around Byakuya’s shoulders, pulling his husband into his arms. “No. Hisana has struggled financially ever since her parents essentially disowned her and her little sister.”

“Is she sick?” Grimmjow feels bad for even asking; Byakuya is obviously upset about this.

“She has cancer,” Aizen murmurs. “She put off going to a doctor to see what was wrong with her for a very long time and now there isn’t much they can do. Allowed to go unchecked for so long, it’s been steadily spreading throughout her body. She will probably pass away soon.”

The weight of the statement smacks Grimmjow right in the face and he hears Ulquiorra’s wet exhale next to him, fumbling for Ulquiorra’s hand, squeezing slender fingers between his own. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I had no idea. There’s nothing they can do to help her?”

“Surgery carries the risk that opening her up will allow the cancer to spread even father. Chemotherapy at this point would ravage her body, and she’s already quite weak because even small illnesses like the flu have taken a lot out of her.” Aizen rubs Byakuya’s shoulder and Grimmjow realizes after a moment that Byakuya's eyes are squeezed shut, tears trickling thin down and over his skin. “Financially, we could have helped her if we had known sooner, but Hisana didn’t want to stop working. She’s the only one supporting her little sister.”

“Rukia.” Byakuya almost chokes the girl’s name out and then his phone is out, sliding across the table toward them. “This is her. She was at the hospital with Hisana.”

The girl— perched on Aizen’s lap for this picture— is small, wan and sad, her skin too pale to be healthy and probably too thin, though it’s hard to tell under the bag of her clothing. She looks up at the camera with wide violet eyes and Grimmjow feels his heart break all over again.

“What happens to her when Hisana passes away?” Ulquiorra asks, peeking at the screen.

More silence, and Grimmjow can guess without having to ask.

“Hisana doesn’t have any family. There’s no one who can take in Rukia. She… Called me to come visit her at the hospital because she wants to leave Rukia with me.” Byakuya goes on so quickly that neither of them have a chance to speak; obviously, he’s trying to cut them off before they can outright disagree. “I’ve known her since she was a baby and Hisana first took her in. Their parents never wanted her. And Hisana does the best she can, she really does.”

“There’s only so much you can do when you don’t have money, though. I understand.” Ulquiorra slides Byakuya his phone back. “Wait, so… Will you be keeping her?”

Byakuya hesitates once more, staring down at his own phone for a long, long moment. “I want to,” he finally says, “but I realize with the four of you in my life, it isn’t solely my decision to make any longer. Because if she was in my life, she would be in all of yours, as well.”

Grimmjow swallows hard at the thought; he and Ulquiorra never talked about having children and any time anyone asked him if they’d ever thought of adopting, he weaseled his way out of having the conversation. He doesn’t really  _ want _ kids; Yachiru for instance is adorable but he can’t imagine having to raise a child on his own. Isn’t responsible enough, can’t imagine the time and effort it would take. How much his life would change around that.

How much  _ their _ lives would change around that, the compromises they’d need to make.

“I don’t want her to end up in the foster care system, which she would probably end up in. It’s not a pretty place for a child to be.” Byakuya swallows hard and Grimmjow can imagine how many nights he’s sat up thinking about this. How he’s carried on with all of them without mentioning it once. “But if that’s what occurs, then I won’t fault any of you for it.”

Ulquiorra shifts in his seat and a troubled expression crosses his face; Grimmjow is surprised when he smoothes it out and clears his throat. “She would be living here, I assume?”

“Yes. I don’t have any plans to move and the CPS agent who visited the property assured me it’s more than substantial. I think…” Byakuya’s voice grows bitter and jaded, cynical; it isn’t something Grimmjow has heard out of him before. “I think the fact we’re rich and in a stable marriage, and that there is  _ no one  _ else in the running, is all we have going for us. It’s not every day someone willingly allows a child to go to two gay, trans parents.”

Grimmjow looks down at the table; he knows it’s true. He’s heard the statistics. “You had the agent look over the house already? Why didn’t we talk about it before now?”

Guilt flashes across Byakuya’s face. “Because I had to do it on a day when none of the rest of you are here. I’m  _ not _ ashamed of you, I’m  _ not _ . I could never be. But a CPS agent wouldn’t be able to turn a blind eye to the idea of five parents instead of just two.”

“The fact they’re both men doesn’t make it any easier on them,” Renji adds from across the table. “It’s kinda a rush job since Hisana’s just getting worse every day.”

“I don’t like the idea that you let us wait this long to have the conversation. We should have had it as soon as you knew the details,” Ulquiorra murmurs, voice quiet and smooth.

Byakuya’s expression is pinched and he nods. “I know. I apologize for that. I shouldn’t have done anything behind your backs. As soon as we knew what was going on, we should have talked. Having sex does not take replace talking about important issues.”

“It really doesn’t,” Grimmjow agrees. “I just… I’m not saying no, I’m just overwhelmed about all of this. Are you going to be able to take care of her a kid around both of your jobs?”

“We were discussing that,” Aizen murmurs. “We’d have to work with our schedules and ease up the intensity of them, and likely Byakuya won’t be able to tour with Nozarashi ever again, but those are small and easy sacrifices. We can manage easily should we need to do so.”

Can the rest of them manage? Grimmjow just doesn’t know. He’s never had to think about it before. Ulquiorra’s job is very stay at home because that’s the kind of person he is, but he can’t imagine Ulquiorra with a child, not in a meaningful way, not even if Yachiru was completely taken with him and clung to him when she had the chance. It’s easy to like someone like Ulquiorra, so of course children seem to adore him, but he doesn’t seem to have ever felt one way or another about them. How would they go about raising a child?

Even with five of them, it seems like too much too soon. He  _ really _ wishes Byakuya hadn’t kept this from him. They’d have more time to think about it and less pressure.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Byakuya murmurs. “I know this is a lot, and I apologize for that. This isn’t going to be a case where majority rules. Either everyone says yes, or we all say no. I won’t make any of you do something you don’t want to do.”

“She’s important to you,” Ulquiorra says softly, his expression gentle.

Grimmjow opens his mouth, surprised, and then closes it again. When he speaks, his voice is more measured. “I can’t promise you I’m gonna be great with a kid. I’m more like the cool uncle type than anything else. That’s like, the very most I could feasibly offer.”

“We wouldn’t have to be around her twenty-four seven since we don’t live here,” Renji reminds him, and Grimmjow’s eyes widen slightly.  _ Oh, shit, I didn’t even think about that. _ “So you’d see her if you came over, but that’d be it. And we can always get a babysitter if we need privacy for a weekend. Zaraki already bothered Bya about getting to watch her sometime.”

“Which we will  _ see _ about,” Byakuya mutters, obviously unconvinced.

Ulquiorra sips at his coffee and Grimmjow takes a hearty drink of his. “Rukia would live here and we would see her when we visited. I hate to ask this question, but would you even have time for the rest of us if you have to raise a child who will also be handling trauma issues related to the death of her older sister? That’s a very intense situation to go through at a young age.”

“I can’t give you a straight answer because as much as I want to say yes, I don’t know what will happen. But I’m not going to choose you  _ over _ her and tell you to get out. I… I can’t do that.” Byakuya pinches the bridge of his nose and Grimmjow can see the shimmer of tears returning, and it breaks his heart, but they have to do this the right way. “I want her, obviously. I’ve known her most of her life and the thought of her going to maybe strangers who abuse her is painful, but I’ve realized I can’t just… Force you into that. Children need to be wanted.”

“I agree,” Ulquiorra says, “because when children are unwanted, they can tell. And she’ll need all of the care and consideration she can get after this. Which… She won’t get in foster care.”

Byakuya nods, then stills and Grimmjow turns around to look at Ulquiorra properly, not sure what to say. “I’m… I think I’m misunderstanding you, Ulquiorra.”

“You aren’t. I know what Renji said. I don’t even need to ask him what he thought of all of this. His choice in the matter is clear. And I know what Sosuke said.” Ulquiorra pauses to take another drink of coffee and the room is so silent it makes Grimmjow’s ears ring. “The only ones who haven’t given you an answer are us. You asked them before you asked us.”

The weight of that revelation settles on Grimmjow’s shoulders and he twists his mouth into a line at the thought, staring down at the liquid in his mug. Byakuya had, of course, and Grimmjow can even understand why; Aizen had been right there in the hospital with him and they probably talked it over as soon as they knew the situation. It still feels shitty knowing they were left for last and he. He  _ gets _ it and he isn’t jealous, because he knows Byakuya loves them both, has seen it in a thousand ways now, but it still doesn’t quite sit right in his gut.

Ulquiorra clears his throat. “But I’m not. I mean, I am upset over that. I’m upset that this conversation is not fair to us, because you waited to ask us last and then acted as though this was about all of us and our points of view. Of course Sosuke and Renji said yes. You’ve probably talked to them about having children before this instance.”

Grimmjow picks his head up at the words. “How’d you figure that out, Quiorra?”

From the way Byakuya’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open, he’s just as shocked.

“I mean, he and Sosuke are married. You would discuss children with a married partner.” Ulquiorra shrugs, as if it makes perfect sense… And Grimmjow supposes it does, after all. “And I saw how good they were with Yachiru, and it clued me in. Even if they never talked about it before meeting her, that would have been enough to kickstart the conversation.”

“What about me?” Renji doesn’t even sound upset, just interested at this point, eyes shining bright as he leans across the table. “How’d you know they’d talked to me about it?”

“You’re a natural with Yachiru and you’ve been with them for years. If Byakuya seriously wanted a child and wanted to keep you near, he would have had this conversation with you already.” Ulquiorra finishes his coffee and Grimmjow pushes his mug toward his pretty boyfriend without a word. His pretty, scarily smart boyfriend. “Like I said, I’m not as upset as I could have been, but this was never going to be a fair conversation to everyone involved. It just maybe made your concept of having kids one day a sudden and very close reality.”

Aizen clears his throat. “For what it’s worth, we didn’t want to ask either of you even though, you are correct, we have discussed it before. It simply wouldn’t have been fair to put that pressure on you when you were new to this relationship.”

“And we appreciate that,” Grimmjow says, because he feels like sitting here and letting Ulquiorra talk for him isn’t going to get them much of anywhere. He has to be an active participant in this conversation. “I’m just… I dunno. I guess I’m concerned about what happens if you do take her in. If you think this leads to us splitting up, then maybe we should talk about it.”

“You’re talking about time delegation and importance, I assume,” Byakuya says and he waits for Grimmjow to nod before he spreads his hands out in front of him. “We’d have to sit down and work it out more than we do now. Rukia is still young, she won’t be in kindergarten for a few more years which means we don’t have to worry about school just yet, but that also means she’s at the house. I don’t want to ferry her off to a babysitter all the time. You’d… You would have to see her and get along with her, and if something happened to her, you’d have to help us take care of her if it was in your ability. And I know that is so, so much to ask of you two.”

Ulquiorra finishes off Grimmjow’s coffee and nods. “It is. I’m glad you realize that. I just, I have a single question. Just one. What are you going to tell her about us?”   


“That you’re my partners just as much as Renji and Sosuke are.” The declaration is immediate and Grimmjow feels relief and then bowled over seconds later when he realizes they’ve been dropped into the same category as Byakuya’s  _ husband. _ “There won’t be any lies. I won’t do that to you or to her. She deserves to know the truth, and you deserve to be respected.”

“I don’t think I’m particularly good with children, but I don’t live here yet. I can work on it.” Ulquiorra clinks the two mugs in front of him together. “So… I’ll say yes. Because you clearly love her very much, and foster care would be bad for her. I can be a good, uncle-type figure in her life until I figure out how to fulfill a parental role, I think.”

Grimmjow leans back in his seat, staring at Ulquiorra’s face for a long, long moment. Time. They have time. “Okay,” he breathes. “I’ll say yes, too. Because if you give us the time we need to adjust and figure shit out, it should be okay. We can figure this out.”

“Thank you both so much.” And then Byakuya is up and rounding the table, and Grimmjow has maybe seconds to prepare for a kiss that takes his breath away.

Ulquiorra’s phone rings not long after he gets his own kiss and he checks the screen before standing. “This is work. I’m going to go take this in the other room.”

No sooner does he leave the room than Aizen leans forward, his voice pitched low. “I wanted to thank you in private, Grimmjow. Since Ulquiorra doesn’t know, I don’t particularly want to bring it up for the sake of Shinji’s comfort, but I heard about what happened with Kensei and Shinji, and that you took care of him. He told me about it, too. Thank you for watching over him.”

“It wasn’t a problem.”  _ Why would it be? _ “I guess I just… Is he okay now? I was pretty fucking concerned when I realized he was crying about what happened.”

Aizen’s face softens. “Shinji has gone through a lot in life and the night was just very overwhelming for him. But you did a good thing, watching over him like that.”

“As long as he’s okay.” Grimmjow shifts in his seat and finally voices the only real concern he’s had since that night; he hasn’t seen Shinji at Las Noches to ask him outright. “Kensei really didn’t hurt him, did he? It was just a scene gone wrong like he said it was?”

“Oh, yes.” Aizen exhales slowly and takes Grimmjow’s hand across the table, giving it a small squeeze. “Shinji is just fine. He’s taking a break to handle the drop is all.”

_ The drop. Oh. _ “Is he doing okay, then? With the whole brain being tired thing?”

“Yes. I’ve been checking in on him periodically and making sure he remembers to eat and snack throughout the day while he’s working so he doesn’t get too tired.” Aizen’s smile shifts slightly and his grip on Grimmjow’s hand tightens just enough to be noticeable. “My thoughtful sub, taking care of others and worrying over their health. It’s an attractive quality to have.”

“It’s a human quality to have,” Grimmjow corrects him, and Aizen laughs, apparently delighted.

The fact Shinji doesn’t have a Dom to worry over him and take care of him concerns Grimmjow just a little, though he supposes Aizen fills the role well enough to make sure Shinji is getting on. Still, he wants to see him once more and assure himself that Shinji is fine, maybe hug him just to be one hundred percent sure. He’s worried, sue him. It was a scary moment.

Ulquiorra returns to the kitchen looking haggard. “Taken care of,” he announces, helping himself to another cup of coffee without hesitation. “Sorry, that was just. Hmm. Anyway, tell us more about Rukia. If we’re going to meet this lovely lady soon, I want to know more.”

The tone of his voice puts Grimmjow firmly on edge; he’s seen Ulquiorra stressed after most of his work-related conversations but he never quite looks like this.  _ Maybe it’s just that this was a long and hard conversation on top of the phone call, _ he thinks, and tucks Ulquiorra up under his arm while Byakuya sits down and, clearly moved to a topic he enjoys, starts talking about Rukia in great detail. It’s clear how much he loves her from the tone of his voice.

The more he talks, the more Grimmjow thinks they can definitely do this. Even if it takes time, they’ll figure it out together.

They’ll be a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this happened. it's a very long and fraught with tension conversation but it's very important that they have it. to be honest i'm not a fan of how a lot of fanfic handles children and the topic of adopting or otherwise having children because kids are a very important topic and you really gotta talk about it. it's a serious thing, you gotta be willing to put in all the hard work you can to make sure it works out.
> 
> anyway this chapter came pretty fast so i was pleased... i might consider writing a second chapter today. i'm thinking about it. we're getting so close to the end you guys.


	25. the past and the present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** massive insecurity/self-loathing/lowkey mental health issues
> 
>  **sexual content:** mentioned sex but that's it

“You’re frowning again.” Bazz’s singsong voice knocks Ulquiorra right out of the tumultuous run of his thoughts and he looks up just in time for Bazz to tap him on the nose, firmly, twice. “What did I tell you? I’d do anything to make sure you kept smiling for me.”

The phrase along makes Ulquiorra smile and he ducks his head, shaking it at the incorrigible man squeezed in next to him on the couch. Initially, Bazz just showed up to look at the finished logos Ulquiorra has prepared for him, the job simple enough that it flew by and his current status in this relationship so strange that throwing his energy into creative endeavors felt correct and natural. All of his current work is finished as a result.

But that was over fast; Bazz’s face lit up like a child’s at Christmas and just that thought makes Ulquiorra’s stomach twist into knots all over again. He shouldn’t have said yes. He absolutely should not have told Byakuya they would figure things out if they had time. Panicky regret seizes his heart every time he remembers the conversation, and that was, what, six days ago? Seven? He’s starting to lose track of the time, and it’s making life unfairly hard. But he was serious when he said he didn’t appreciate not knowing, being the last one whose opinions counted, and knowing that if they said no, Byakuya would probably never forgive them.

People don’t let anything of that magnitude go. Ulquiorra knows that better than anyone.

“Okay.” Bazz shuts off the television and turns around, leaning against the back of the couch, seizing Ulquiorra by the chin and lifting his head. “Look me in the eye and tell me what’s going on. I’ve heard you laugh and giggle and shit on the phone and then when I get to see you again, you’re sad. Or melancholy or whatever fucking words Yumichika thinks make sad sound cool.”

“You probably already heard about it because I know Kenpachi already knows.” Ulquiorra doesn’t miss small details like that; someone  _ else _ had known before they had.

Maybe he’s bitter, but he doesn’t think it’s unfair. He thinks it just keeps coming back to his experience in the past, when the communication started to go downhill even over little things except this is not  _ little _ by any stretch of the imagination.

“The girl. Yeah. Okay.” Bazz is quiet for a moment, and his hand finally drops from Ulquiorra’s face. “You not into kids? I could see that. Being good with one kid doesn’t mean you personally want kids or want to be in a relationship with someone who has kids.”

“He told us last. I’m still not over that, even though he apologized and the situation is very tense. I understand these things logically, and I just…” Ulquiorra shakes his head, not sure what to say.

Bazz sighs softly. “Emotion’s not always logical, and maybe I’m biased because we’re friends, but to me he probably should have told you first. Definitely before Kenpachi, and probably before the CPS visit. I dunno, babe, it feels like he was making plans before he ever asked you what you thought about things. He can be sorry for that, but you can still be upset.”

Making plans without asking.  _ Like the car, _ Ulquiorra thinks, and then he’s furious with himself for even making the comparison. “I also can’t go let of the past and it’s really not fucking helping.”

“Have you tried talking to them about it?” Bazz asks, and Ulquiorra frowns and looks down at his lap because no, he hasn’t. “I didn’t think so. But you need to. Tell one of them—”

“I don’t know if I want to. Not after… I feel like the fact he could just make all these decisions without consulting us, like, what does he think about our feelings on the matter?” Ulquiorra wrinkles his nose and Bazz  _ ahhs _ softly in understanding. “I… You said in the diner that I didn’t have to open up to you because you were just some stranger. But you’re not now.”

Bazz is quiet before he nods once. “Right on the money. I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“Then…” Ulquiorra bites down on his lower lip. “Can I talk to you about what happened?”

“If you want to, then I’m all ears.” Bazz takes Ulquiorra’s hands in his own. “I’m serious.”

Ulquiorra debates; the fact he hasn’t even told  _ Grimmjow _ makes him feel almost bad for telling Bazz of all people, especially when the aspects of this part of his past have been making it nearly impossible for him to go forward in this without crashing and burning in some small semblance of breakdown. But Bazz is not involved in this, and he has no part in it, and maybe he is biased. Maybe he won’t think Ulquiorra is a bastard for everything that happened.

“She was my last girlfriend before I met Grimmjow. Her name was Inoue Orihime.” Ulquiorra closes his eyes; just saying her name is enough to make his ribs ache. “She was my high school sweetheart. We met in our junior year and stayed together until we went to university.”

“The same university?” Bazz asks, and whistles when Ulquiorra nods. “That’s dedication.”

He nods; he knows it was. “I was dedicated to her happiness. I didn’t think anything of it when she and her roommate and the roommate’s boyfriend were eating out together, they’d invite me along sometimes when I wasn’t studying. I took a heavier class load than she did, so I had less free time. I was just glad she was out on her own and having fun.”

“And she and the roommate got along okay?” Bazz asks, and Ulquiorra sighs and nods because yeah, they had. They probably still do today. He hasn’t seen them in a while. “That’s good. I had a fucking horrible roommate in college. I always quit over that. So what was she like?”

“He,” Ulquiorra corrects, and Bazz’s eyebrows shoot up. “He wasn’t out in university except to her and his partner, so they shared a dorm room because his legal documents had the wrong gender on it. Ishida Uryu. He was very studious and serious and I don’t know  _ why _ Orihime liked him so much, he seemed the opposite of her type. But she adored him.”

Bazz’s eyes widen with understanding. “When you said you were one for two—”

“Yes. Correct. I suppose things changed between them at some point before I realized it, but Orihime didn’t want to leave me. She thought we could, perhaps, all be together.” Ulquiorra remembers that conversation all too well, the shock. “I liked Uryu and his boyfriend, Chad, though. They were kind. They were considerate and caring. So I thought maybe we could make that work, the four of us. And at first, it wasn’t so bad. We had plenty of good times together.”

He drops his head; remembering what happened after university hurts too much, and he doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to  _ talk _ about this. “And—”

“Wait,” Bazz says, and Ulquiorra looks up at him. “Your last girlfriend before Grimmjow. Were there any people between Orihime and Grimmjow for you? At all? Or no.”

“No,” Ulquiorra answers, and Bazz’s face does something complicated.

But he waves a hand for Ulquiorra to continue. “Go ahead. I was just making sure I was getting the timeline right. So, everything was fine and happy.”

“We moved into an apartment together after the year ended because we thought it would be easier. We spent the last few weeks looking for one together and we finally found one.” He was the one to find it, too, something he was immensely proud of. A space that met all of their needs, gave them a spare room to use as an office as needed— he’d been doing art in there when he had the urge— and that let them be as close as they wanted. “Living together, it was very domestic. I never woke up in bed alone. She was happy. Hell,  _ I _ was happy.”

“You sound like someone who’s very surprised whenever he ends up happy,” Bazz muses, and Ulquiorra snorts because fuck, it’s true. It really was true back then.

He realizes Bazz is still holding one of his hands and grips it tight for the strength he’s going to need to get through this. “I wasn’t… We all had sex with each other, and it was pleasurable, but I wasn’t in love with them. Not in the same way that I was in love with Orihime.”

“That’s fair,” Bazz says automatically. “You’d known her for years and you’d known them for less than a year, and it was a whole new set-up for you. But I’m somehow sensing they aren’t going to feel the same way about that and I’m going to get really pissed on your behalf.”

Ulquiorra smiles softly. “You really are biased. They were good people, Bazz.”

“And you’re my very good friend sitting right in front of me who’s been emotionally crippled by whatever the hell happened between the four of you,” Bazz says right back, and the bluntness of the statement rocks Ulquiorra to the core. He thought he’d been getting used to this.

“Maybe,” he says, and Bazz scowls at him before schooling his expression and nodding for Ulquiorra to go on. “I was the mediator when something went wrong, usually. Because it was easier for me to stay calm in any situation. So I made sure we got through everything.”

“I really hate where this is going. You clearly fucking tried,” Bazz mutters petulantly.

_ You’re more biased than is fair. _ “But I guess that it was pretty clear I was doing this for her sake and Uryu confronted me about that. I didn’t deny that. I thought we could be friends, and that we might have sex together, but I didn’t have to be in love with them. I thought it could be okay.”

“All right, I just want to interrupt for like the tenth time, I’m  _ sorry _ but I just. That’s a perfectly valid way to live.” Before Ulquiorra can say anything, Bazz’s hand is on his face, holding it very carefully. “You can just do the polyamorous thing and have friends involved that are just friends. You don’t have to be one big square, you can be like… Friends who have sex and have one partner in common. That’s a valid way to live your lives.”

“I know that now. I didn’t then. I just thought something might have been wrong with me.” And maybe something still is, to be fair. To still be so wrapped up over this.

Bazz’s face softens and he leans in, and Ulquiorra squeaks a little when Bazz hugs him, all that strength startling the sound out of him. Yumichika is a touchy person; Bazz can’t seem to keep his hands to himself but Ulquiorra would be lying if he said a part of him didn’t appreciate it, the constant warmth of touch and the reassurance behind it. His voice wasn’t shaking, his eyes aren’t stinging, and yet Bazz still tries to do  _ something _ like he just knows the worst part is coming. Like he knows Ulquiorra is going to need it.

“We didn’t have a car. They’d been saving up to buy one but I had no idea so I couldn’t exactly help, and then it was just there.” Ulquiorra sighs against Bazz’s shoulder, his hands coming to rest on that broad, strong back. “It was so stupid to get mad about it but it was a serious purchase and we agreed to talk about those ahead of time. Things like the television and such. I even talked to them when I needed to get a new laptop and tablet for art.”

“So you were understandably upset over them making a large purchase without consulting you like you were considerate enough to do in the past,” Bazz says, leaning back to look at him.

Ulquiorra nods; someone  _ finally _ understands. “I knew we needed the car. I would have helped pay for it. I wasn’t mad that we had a car. I was just mad we didn’t talk about it first. And I wasn’t even  _ mad, _ I just said I’d appreciate if we could discuss large scale purchases in the future.”

“Passively bitchy,” Bazz says, and Ulquiorra huffs at him and leans back and away from him; he  _ knows, _ there’s no reason to rub it in. “No, hey, I’m not mad or insulting you or anything. I just fucking… Love that phrasing. Anyway, continue where you were.”

“Oh. Right, so.” Ulquiorra knots his fingers together and then Bazz’s hand settles on top of them, fingers curling around his own. “So we sat down to talk about it and that was when Orihime told me that they didn’t bother to talk to me about it because they’d been suspecting I didn’t want to be a part of their relationship for over a month now.”

“Which you didn’t, which is miscommunication on your part, but like…” Bazz squeezes his hands and Ulquiorra watches his expressions. He wears all of his emotions so openly so it makes him so much more fascinating to watch. “But like they’d already made the decision.”

Ulquiorra smiles faintly at how fast he puts the pieces together. “Orihime was pale when we sat down to talk. I hadn’t noticed. University had begun again, I was buried in my studies. She was losing weight. That’s how anxious she was about it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. I mean, I’m a little annoyed with all of you for not just openly communicating but…” Bazz shakes his head, but Ulquiorra understands. They’d had so many talks over the course of their relationship that skipping the most important ones seems alien and strange to him, looking back on it all.

“I was devastated. I walked out on them. I grabbed my things, packed as quickly as I could, and left. The reason I had to buy more art supplies, what I did your logo with, was because I left most of those behind.” At the time, he told himself he could just buy more. Standing at the train station, picking apart his entire life through silent tears, hood up so no one would have realized he was crying in the first place because he can be quiet.

Bazz’s face falls. “That’s so fucking awful… Did one of them call you Ulqui? Is that the nickname issue? It just occurred to me you don’t like that name and—”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra winces. “Orihime called me that. It was her nickname for me. When someone uses it, it reminds me of her. Uryu thought my name was so beautiful so he always used the full version, and it’s Spanish-inspired according to my mother. Chad is half-Mexican, and he liked that little connection between us, so he used it, too. Only she ever shortened it.”

“So you left and never looked back.” Bazz sounds heartbroken. Ulquiorra doesn’t know why; he wasn’t the one who went through all of this.

But he nods in assent and leans back a little, glad to have let at least some of it out. “I know now what I did wrong. That I walked into something that I didn’t really want because I wanted to make her happy. I wanted her happiness to come before my own because I thought that’s what love was. And it wasn’t like I was suffering. They were wonderful partners to me.”

“But you just didn’t love them and that became an issue that no one talked about.” Bazz nods, like all of the pieces have just come together in his mind.

“Yes. And I suppose I just never noticed when it stopped being a relationship that involved all four of us. Looking back, she probably wanted to avoid me storming out without another word, but…” Ulquiorra shrugs; what was he supposed to do? Bazz was right when he said emotions aren’t logical and leaving was the quickest way to ensure he no longer had to see how upset she was just to have to talk to him about this. “I stayed with a friend, and then was on my own.”

Bazz pulls Ulquiorra into his arms again and he’s starting to think Bazz might be more upset to hear this story than he is to tell it; strong fingers brush his hair back, running through it slowly until Ulquiorra closes his eyes and leans into the touch. He made mistakes, but all of them made mistakes and he’s just glad Bazz isn’t judging him harshly for how close-eyed he was to the entire situation until it was too late for him to do anything about it or change it.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bazz waits until they’re looking at each other again, some distance between them once more. “You could tell me that story, but you can’t tell it to your boyfriends, and you had trouble saying no to Byakuya. Do you think it’s because of her?”

Ulquiorra bites his lips. “I don’t think that. I know that. Part of me is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Renji once told me that if we had any problems we’d sit and talk about them. No one would just have to leave. But this… They left us as the last two to talk to.”

“So it’s like the car,” Bazz murmurs, and Ulquiorra blinks at him.  _ You made the connection, too. _ “A very big decision that, while maybe not fully made yet in your case, was in the works. Do you feel like they did that on purpose, or was it really just an accident?”

“Byakuya isn’t a malicious man no matter how many digs he takes at Kenpachi. I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose. But it still hurts.” And he’s probably being ridiculous to care so much. Rukia has nowhere else to go. She  _ needs _ Byakuya, she needs that stability. The warmth, the love.

She isn’t going to get that level of care from anyone else. There  _ isn’t _ anyone else.

Before he can voice this, though, Bazz’s hands are on his face again. He  _ really _ can’t seem to keep them to himself. “It’s allowed to hurt. Ulquiorra, this is not a small thing. This is not a tiny issue. This isn’t a car. This is a human being he wants to bring into his life and, by extension, yours. Unless you never go to his house ever again and never see her. But that’s going to be hard because he’ll have to spend a lot of time with her. She’ll be very upset.”

“It makes sense that he talked to them about it first. The groundwork was there. Of course he and his husband talked about kids. Renji’s… Of course.  _ Of course. _ So why does it upset me?” Ulquiorra hates this, hates how weak he feels, hates how his eyes sting. “Why does it make me feel like he doesn’t give a shit about my feelings? Why does it  _ always _ feel like that?”

“Fuck, you’re crying.” Bazz looks momentarily panicked and then Ulquiorra is half-pinned against the arm of the couch with Bazz’s weight on top of him, arms all but crushing him once more. He doesn’t dislike it this time. He just clings because fuck it, he  _ needs _ this.

Logically, he knows why. He left. He never talked to them, he never got closure, he never stopped to understand their point of view. He was just hurt. His feelings were crushed under the weight of the revelation that none of them wanted him anymore, that the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul, whose joy and happiness he constantly put above his own because Orihime was sunshine, she was light, she  _ deserved _ the entire world, turned away from him. And that it still hurts, and that he keeps waiting for other people to hurt him because it’s what he knows to be true, what he expects.

And it’s not fair. Because Sosuke and Byakuya and Renji aren’t Uryu and Chad, and Grimmjow isn’t Orihime, and they aren’t going to just push him away and leave him alone so they can play house together. He  _ knows _ that but the fear is irrational and it makes him feel small and sick and tired, the worry that they’ll want to do all of this, but if he doesn’t, then he just won’t… Won’t…

“Please breathe,” Bazz whispers in his ear, and Ulquiorra realizes he’s close to hyperventilating. “Please, baby, take deep breaths. Match your breathing to me. We’ll do it together.”

He takes Ulquiorra’s hand and places it on his chest, over the steady beat of his heart and Ulquiorra can feel the steady rise and fall there, the proof of his breathing, the rhythm of it. It takes him a minute to make the match but his breathing does calm down, and he feels… Oddly safe like this. Under Bazz’s weight, breathing with him, and when he looks up Bazz is smiling gently and gives him a small nod as if to telling him he’s doing a good job.

It feels good. It makes him feel just the tiniest bit better.

“There you go. Started to have a little anxiety attack on me. I know it’s scary.” Bazz sits up and sits him up, retrieves the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and hands it to him. “When Yumi first joined Nozarashi, he had anxiety something awful. Still kinda does. He can’t really  _ replace _ Retsu or her influence. So in a sense he’s always waiting for us to kick him out.”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully, dabbing the tears off of his cheeks and blowing his nose. “You did mention you’d comfort him to me before. I guess that makes a lot of sense.”

“I think it’s natural when you’ve been badly hurt to think people are going to keep hurting you. It might not be logical to everyone, but it’s something almost beyond logic.” Bazz looks him over quietly for a moment, then stands up. “I’ll get you a drink. Be right back.”

He’s right, in a sense; Ulquiorra’s emotional reactions haven’t been logical since the first time he and Grimmjow went to dinner with Aizen. He was more worried about Grimmjow than Aizen was, more worried about the relationship than anyone else, still the most worried about every single small thing that happens. When Byakuya called to say he wanted to talk, Ulquiorra wasn’t just anxious; he was downright terrified and hiding as much of it as he could. Because Byakuya could have been ditching them, or just one of them. It was frightening.

Maybe this is something he needs to work on by himself. Maybe he isn’t cut out for a relationship of this intensity and size after all.

“Here.” Bazz hands him a bottle of juice and he gratefully sips it; his throat feels raw from all that talking after all. “So like, you don’t need me to tell you that everything you told me just now should have been said at that table. I think you realize that on your own. So why didn’t you? I know you just said Byakuya didn’t do it maliciously, so surely he’d realize you weren’t going to say no out of malicious intent.”

“Because she means too much to him. Not in a bad way, just in a way that I don’t think I can just tell him that I don’t want him to do it. And it’s not even just that.” Ulquiorra stares down at his juice, wondering how the hell to make this sound less selfish than it is. “I just—”

Bazz touches his knee and Ulquiorra pauses. “You need to take care of yourself. Whatever that entails, you should do it. Seeing you this upset isn’t good. You think they’d like it? I just met you and it tears up my heart to see you cry. I bet it’d fucking break all of theirs in seconds.”

“It feels manipulative to cry over something like this. Like maybe they think I’m just doing it to get what I want.” He sniffles at the prospect, the way they’d look at him.

“If they think you crying over the fact you’re scared to tell them the truth is manipulative then, shit, sweetheart, maybe you need new boyfriends.” Bazz sounds disappointed, though Ulquiorra doesn’t know who in. He hopes it’s not in him. He’s trying so hard right now, and he can only hope that Bazz can see that. “I don’t think they’ll think that. If you tell them the story you just told me, I’m sure they’ll understand. And like… Kids are a big step. Kenpachi’s entire life changed around Yachiru. It’s not selfish to not want to have to change everything if you don’t want a child in the first place. Look at me, I don’t think you’re listening to me.”

“I am,” Ulquiorra complains, but he lifts his head and meets Bazz’s intense gaze anyway.

Bazz leans in until it feels like their faces might touch at any moment. “Tell them the truth. Be honest. And if they don’t understand, then I’m serious. Leave. I know you love them. You wouldn’t be this torn up over losing them if you didn’t. But this shit is so simple that they can’t not understand what you’re going through. If it’s this easy and they don’t, fuck them.”

“It should be that easy but leaving would be so hard. I love them. I mean… Grimmjow is the one I love the most and I don’t feel bad saying that. He was my partner first.” And has been for years. The first person to make Ulquiorra pause and decide that maybe it was worth giving dating another shot, that he’d been nursing his broken heart long enough and should move on.

“I’m not judging, babe. It’s not bad to know a distinction.” Bazz’s fingers comb through his hair once more, pulling a few strands loose that are stuck to his cheeks from tears. “But you  _ have _ to do what’s right for you. Even if it’s not convenient. But talk to them. Let them know how you feel. If they love you, they’ll sit down and talk to you about it. You’ll get it figured out.”

“Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” Ulquiorra blows his nose again and then laughs, wadding up the tissue in his hand. “All I’ve done is draw you a logo for your drumsticks. You don’t deserve to have to sit here and listen to me wax poetic about being sad.”

Bazz shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just happy to help. The logo was great. I love it. It’s gonna look fucking amazing on my sticks. But what matters to me, like I said, is the people I care about being happy. And making you smile is pretty important too.”

“Well, thank you. Again. I mean that.” Ulquiorra tosses the Kleenex back on the coffee table. “Do you want to order something to eat? Pizza maybe. Grimmjow complains if I order it too much because he’s a pretty healthy guy but comfort food would be amazing right now.”

“Only if you order extra cheese because listen I can put pizza away like nobody’s business.” Bazz grins at him and Ulquiorra laughs and picks up his cell phone.

The pizza gets there fast and Bazz finds a movie for them to watch, something stupid, an action comedy hybrid that makes Ulquiorra laugh around his food. It’s… Nice. It’s stress free and easy and God knows his life hasn’t been as easy as he wishes it were, as easy as it was before. But it’s easy to fall into that trap. He doesn’t want to give up on this relationship just because it isn’t easy. He just wants to find a way to make it less hard on him emotionally.

Bazz, at some point in the film, slings an arm around his shoulders and just leaves it there. It’s nice; physical contact with him just is. Ulquiorra is used to it from his partners but it’s nice to have a friend looking out for him like this when in his experience, most of his friends seem to think he has his shit together because he can keep his emotions under wraps around them. Even Grimmjow probably has that assumption, which just means Ulquiorra’s acting skills are as proficient as he’s always thought they were.

He just needs to act less often. To be honest with his partners about how he feels.

_ Soon, _ he thinks.  _ I’ll lay all my cards on the table and tell them the truth. Bazz is right. They’re going to understand what I’ve gone through and we’ll get to talk about this. _

When Bazz leaves, he spends an obnoxiously long amount of time hugging Ulquiorra at the door and Ulquiorra finally sends him on his way, almost breathless from laughter at how dramatic he can be. No wonder he was the one who reached out to Yumichika when he was having issues; Bazz is the kind of person who brightens up the room.

Maybe Ulquiorra should reach out to Yumichika too, since Bazz mentioned he still has occasional issues. Maybe they can talk about this sometime.

Grimmjow comes home and Ulquiorra greets him at the door with a kiss. They have the apartment to themselves tonight, and he’s glad for that. For the peace and the quiet and the domesticity he’s gotten used to over the last handful of years.

“You taste like garlic,” Grimmjow murmurs. “You and Bazz order pizza?”

“We did.” Ulquiorra runs his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair; maybe he should start right here. “Can we sit down and talk about something? You aren’t in trouble. I just want to open up to you about something that’s been bothering me since before we knew each other.”

Summer sky eyes widen down at him. “Shit, are you okay?”

“I will be.” Ulquiorra kisses him again, takes him by the hand and leads him over to the couch to sit down. “But it’s important, and I think you should hear about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so full discretion: i don't think anyone is necessarily in the full right or wrong of what happened in the last chapter and the fallout in this chapter. i think byakuya is between a rock and a hard place. he didn't have a way of knowing he was going to have two new boyfriends at the same time as rukia needing him would be a factor in his life, so it's hard to plan around that. did he make insensitive choices? yeah. but ulquiorra is also at fault for not being honest and not communicating.
> 
> i think it's an interesting conflict to have, because it's hard to talk about things like he did in this chapter, and he chose someone out of his relationship to discuss this with for perspective. things happen. life isn't black and white, it's very grey and working through that can be hard. i guess it just depends on where they all go from here and that life is going to entail for the five of them depending on how this all works out.
> 
> and now you guys know about ulquiorra's past.


	26. a much-needed moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** small scene in the bath tub, masturbation and anal fingering

On a Saturday evening that promises freezing rains that will no doubt turn the landscape into a beautiful winter scene by morning but is inconvenient at best and dangerous at worst, Ulquiorra sits down with them in the living room and tells them about his former relationship. For the most part, Aizen remains quiet and listens patiently, watching Grimmjow’s arm tighten protectively around Ulquiorra’s shoulders every time the story grows emotionally painful to tell. By the end of it, he pushes himself out of the chair he’s sharing with Byakuya and brackets Ulquiorra with his body, the two of them book-ending him through his misery.

The point is clear. He and Byakuya made a serious mistake in how they handled the situation regarding Rukia and how to discuss it with their partners no matter how good their intentions were to begin with. So when Ulquiorra finishes talking, Aizen wraps him up in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against Ulquiorra’s hair, squeezing him tight when Ulquiorra doesn’t look up at him, just keeps his eyes fixed on his own hands curled limply in his lap. “We were thoughtless and we didn’t think about your feelings and how it might seem that we waited to talk to you about it. I had no idea you’d gone through something like that.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Ulquiorra reminds him, but Aizen merely shakes his head.

He leans further down, pressing his cheek against Ulquiorra’s own. “That’s true, but it didn’t give me the right to suddenly pretend we could make those decisions without consulting you.”

“Ulquiorra.” Byakuya pushes himself up from the chair and crosses the room, dropping to his knees between the couch and the coffee table, squeezed into the small space so he can look up into Ulquiorra’s eyes. “I am sorry for giving you the impression that you didn’t truly have a choice in the matter. It was never my intention, but that does not matter if it hurt you anyway.”

His hands slide up to touch Ulquiorra’s face and the younger man sighs and leans into the touch, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes fall closed. “I know you didn’t mean to do it. I can understand that. I know she’s important to you, I understand that. I just…”

“It’s a very big decision for me to make for all of us without even having a fair conversation about it. You’re right.” Byakuya leans up, kisses Ulquiorra on the end of the nose, drawing a giggle out of him. “And I’m sorry. I was insensitive and wrong to make those decisions without talking to any of you. We should talk about things like that when it affects all of us.”

“Thank you for understanding. I was worried I was coming off too selfish.” Ulquiorra sniffles faintly, and the sound threatens to crack Aizen’s heart wide open.

“Not at all, my darling. You were honest with us, and that’s all I can ever ask of you. Besides, I can see how it must have seemed like you didn’t have a choice.” Byakuya kisses him properly and Ulquiorra sighs, leaning into it, into Byakuya. “But you do. You always do. If you aren’t ready for this, then I won’t force you into it. I would never do that to you.”

Aizen kisses his hair again, rubbing a hand up and down Ulquiorra’s slim back. “The five of us are together. We made that decision as a group, did we not? We talked to each other about it. This is important, too, and if you ever felt like your words weren’t going to be heard, then we have done a bad job at conveying just how important you are to us.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to have her in your life,” Ulquiorra says softly, “but I know I’m not ready for it. I’m… I’m really struggling with this. I’m trying my best, but it’s so hard.”

Byakuya nods up at him. “I understand. Have you considered talking to a therapist about this? I’m not saying you have to, but professional help might be of some good for you.”

“Bazz said something about that. I should probably start looking,” Ulquiorra admits softly.

“Would you meet Rukia for me?” Byakuya asks him, and Ulquiorra cocks his head, an uncertain expression on his pretty face. “I would like you to meet her and talk to her. I understand that caring for a child might seem frightening, but Rukia… Is unlike many children. She’s been through enough that she’s forcibly matured. It’s tragic, but she might be easier for you to handle than Yachiru was, for instance. And of course, you're not responsible for her. I am. Just me.”

Ulquiorra bites down on his lip, drags his teeth across it so the skin beneath bleeds white and then pink once more. “I can do that. I think that would be giving her a fair chance, too.”

“We can help you find professional help if you want to,” Aizen adds, and Ulquiorra looks up at him finally, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. It’s been a hard night on him; Aizen can’t even imagine how it must have been the night he left his apartment alone. “We have money, we can afford to pay for the sessions if you decide to visit a therapist. I don’t want you thinking for even a second that we don’t want you to recover. It just might take more than us.”

Grimmjow clears his throat, leaning heavily against Ulquiorra’s side once more. “It’s  _ going _ to take more than just us. We can make you happy, Quiorra, but we can’t necessarily repair all the damage they did. If you think you need help, get it. It’s so you’ll be happy again, all the time.”

“I understand. Thank you all.” Ulquiorra catches a stray tear before it can fall, letting it soak into the sleeve of his sweater. “I wanted to tell you, but as you can see, it’s not an easy story for me to get through and I don’t particularly like thinking about it very much.”

“Which makes sense,” Renji calls from the loveseat, seemingly content to let them have their little huddle while he watches from afar. “But yeah, if you want the help, get it. Seriously.”

Ulquiorra exhales slowly and nods, curling in on himself once more, but Aizen isn’t having any of that, not tonight. Instead, he rewards Ulquiorra for his trust in them, wrapping his arms around Ulquiorra’s waist, pulling up up and into his lap, arms wrapping around him tight and secure. The contact does what it’s supposed to do; Ulquiorra leans into him gratefully, head resting on his shoulder, and not for the first time he thinks that Ulquiorra needs physical reassurance just as much as he needs words, that it must have been something he was lacking before.

Not anymore. If this is one small thing they can do to make him feel better, Aizen will do it.

“Thank you,” he says, and Ulquiorra makes a small, confused sound up at him. “For telling us that even though it hurt you. For being honest with us. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to come to us with this. Even if you didn’t come to us first. I’m glad you have a friend that you can talk to who can nudge you in a direction that might be helpful for you.”

Ulquiorra nods, tucking his head up under Aizen’s chin like he’s trying to make himself as small as humanly possible right now. “He’s a good friend. Thank you for introducing us.”

Byakuya remains kneeling on the floor, studying them before he rises to his knees and offers his hands. “Come. I was the one who made the mistake and I should rectify the situation. Remember the bath back at your apartment? Our tub is much larger.”

“You don’t have to,” Ulquiorra murmurs, but there’s a significant want in his voice.

“ _ We _ made the mistake,” Aizen corrects, standing with Ulquiorra in his arms, smiling when Ulquiorra yelps and squirms in his embrace. “Ah, ah, Ulquiorra. Byakuya is correct. We made a mistake, and therefore we should do something for you to show you that we do care. And you should be rewarded for your bravery. Renji, Grimmjow, can you keep each other occupied?”

Renji arches an eyebrow, an amused smile crossing his face. “I  _ guess _ we can find something to do to spend our time. You three just run off upstairs and have fun.”

“You gonna be okay, Quiorra?” Grimmjow asks, stretching out a hand to touch Ulquiorra’s back.

Always the concerned and loving boyfriend. Aizen approves of him more than he could ever know, more than he could ever possibly conceptualize on his own.

Ulquiorra nods, seemingly at peace. “Yes, Grimm. A bath sounds nice right now, actually.”

“Okay. Take care of him.” The tone of Grimmjow’s voice is stern, and Byakuya looks suitably impressed. “He’s been through a lot yesterday and today and the last thing he needs is to go through any more shit. You’re right. He deserves to relax.”

That decides it, then. Aizen carries Ulquiorra upstairs while Byakuya walks ahead of him, both of them heading toward the master bedroom. As promised, the tub is massive, large enough for easily three people though Ulquiorra will have it all to himself this evening. High-backed white porcelain with clawed feet, a beautiful antique Byakuya found when they were searching for suitable furniture, the first true splurge they indulged in as a couple. Ulquiorra makes a disbelieving noise at the sight of it and Aizen laughs softly, setting him on the counter beside the sink while Byakuya starts collecting bottles from the shelf unit built into the wall.

“That seems extravagant even for you,” Ulquiorra murmurs, tugging shyly at his sleeves.

“It is, I agree. It’s our most expensive piece of furniture, to my knowledge.” Aizen takes Ulquiorra’s hands in his own, kissing his knuckles, lips brushing against the soft fabric of the sweater because Ulquiorra always seems to end up with sweater paws. “I’m going to miss winter when you’re not dressed in these clothes that don’t fit you. It’s irresistibly cute.”

Ulquiorra huffs at him, taking his hands back. “But I’m  _ cold _ all the fucking time. I’m so tired of it. The apartment is never warm enough, and if it is then in about five minutes it’s  _ too _ hot—”

“I know, my love. You’ve told me.” Aizen kisses him on the mouth to halt his little tirade, ignoring that little voice in the back of his head that insists that if Ulquiorra just  _ moved in _ with them…

He isn’t going there tonight. Tonight has been long enough for all of them and the last thing he wants to think about is making it more tiring for Ulquiorra, who has done the best he can for all of them tonight. Aizen kisses him again to distract himself from his own thoughts;  _ brave little sub, letting us in like that where you were so vulnerable and afraid. _

“The bath is ready.” Byakuya joins him at the counter, takes Ulquiorra by the chin and giving him a slow, lingering kiss that makes Ulquiorra’s cheeks flush a bright, telling pink. “Let me undress you, my darling. I hope the water is hot enough for your liking.”

Byakuya had the pampering thing down before they’d ever let, something Aizen still delights in to this day because he’s come home to dinner or a hot bath, or just a movie he loves waiting on the television so they can relax together. He stands back and lets Byakuya do his thing, helping Ulquiorra out of his sweater and the t-shirt beneath, taking a moment just to run his hands over Ulquiorra’s lean chest, fingers tracing the muscle definition just beneath his skin. His fingers trace a path down Ulquiorra’s belly to the waistband of his jeans, unfastening them to make quick work of working the tight denim down his legs.

From the floor, Byakuya smiles up at him. “You really are lovely, you know that? I feel bad for your exes, not having you in their lives anymore. What a miserable existence that would be, to be without someone as special as you.”

Ulquiorra groans and splays a hand over his eyes. “Stop saying such embarrassing things.”

“But it’s so much fun to watch you blush.” Byakuya helps him step out of the jeans and then pulls his underwear down in one fluid pull. “Now, into the tub with you. I’ve added enough to the water that you should be suitably relaxed all night. And you’ll smell amazing.”

Before Ulquiorra can take a step, Aizen sweeps him back off of his feet, carrying him over to the tub like a husband might carry his bride across the threshold. He watches, amused, as Ulquiorra leans over to swipe his fingers through the water, no doubt testing the temperature before he settles back into Aizen’s chest, allowing Aizen to lower him slowly into the water. There are bubbles all over the surface of course, and below them the water is an interesting galaxy-colored mess. Ah, so he’d picked a bath bomb from his collection as well.

“Oh, that feels so good.” Ulquiorra closes his eyes, lets his head fall against the back of the tub; the tension visibly leaves his muscles until he slides deeper into the water. “Thank you.”

“No thanking me. Not for this, which was all for you.” Byakuya leans over to brush Ulquiorra’s hair back from his forehead, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Now that that’s done, candles.”

“Candles? You  _ don’t _ need to light candles,” Ulquiorra protests weakly.

“We like to light candles,” Aizen says, and Ulquiorra hums before he gives a small nod. “Byakuya, put on something soothing to listen to. Let’s make this an experience.”

Ulquiorra doesn’t even bother trying to argue while Byakuya sets his phone into the dock on the other side of the room and safely away from the water, starting up the playlist he keeps just for the bathroom. Well, two, but they don’t need the sexy one right now. Aizen leaves the light on until he’s finished with the candles, of which there are a considerable amount positioned around the room, before he turns off the light. The effect is perfect, soothing music and low golden lighting, Ulquiorra relaxed and warm in the bath.

Byakuya drops the stool next to the tub and sits down on it, combing his fingers through Ulquiorra’s hair once more. He’s always had a thing for long hair; there’s another reason Aizen hasn’t really cut his even if the length is inconvenient. “How are you feeling, baby?”

“Good. Warm. It smells really nice in here.” Ulquiorra blinks at him with tired eyes and Aizen’s heart hurts all over again at just how much they’d unintentionally hurt this man. Their lover, their partner. Another piece of their hearts. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“I enjoy spoiling the men I love,” Byakuya says softly, as if that’s all there is to it.

Aizen retrieves the other stool; they’d bought a second to go with the first when Renji came along. They’ll probably have to buy more. “He’s telling the truth. Keep batting your lashes prettily and you’ll weasel your way into getting him to cook dinner for you.”

“Now there’s an idea!” Byakuya leaps up and leans over the tub, and Ulquiorra yelps and sinks into the water further. “What would you like for dinner? I’ll go make it for you.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head. “You really don’t have to go to the trouble. I’m fine just like this.”

“It’s winter. Hot pot isn’t a bad way to go, and he’s always getting cold,” Aizen muses, and Ulquiorra’s head whips in his direction, face contorted as he mouths  _ betrayal. _ “And he prefers chicken to beef, so a chicken hot pot. You can make Grimmjow and Renji help.”

Byakuya smiles, his eyes glittering. “They  _ will _ help if they know what’s good for them. Enjoy your bath, Ulquiorra. I’m going to go and make you the best hot pot you’ve ever had.”

He’s out of the bathroom before Ulquiorra can speak; Ulquiorra spears Aizen with those green eyes instead, lips pressed into a frown. “I told him he didn’t have to do it. Why is he so insistent on taking care of me like this when he really doesn’t have to?”

“Because he feels very bad after seeing you upset and he knows it’s his fault, and because he wants to make you very happy.” Aizen kisses the top of his head. “Byakuya can be strange about apologies. He can be very extravagant, but that’s just what he knows. I believe he gets it from his parents, who were quite the same way before they passed away.”

“Oh. I understand now. Well, I do appreciate it. It’s nice to be taken care of.” Ulquiorra tilts his head back and Aizen takes the hint, leaning down to kiss him.

It does his heart good to see Ulquiorra relaxed in the water after the conversation downstairs; they’re going to have to do this for him more often, set aside time just to pamper and spoil him if only for the fact that it makes him happy. Maybe it can reassure him, too, make him understand in another way just how much they care about him because they do. Aizen wouldn’t have started thinking about them living as one big family after Renji agreed to move in officially if he didn’t love them both and want them to be with him forever.

His heart is ahead of itself, perhaps, but how could he possibly help himself? Grimmjow and Ulquiorra have been good for him, good for them all, and the two of them deserve to be treasured and cared for even more so than they do for each other.

It might have been dramatic on Byakuya’s part, but the sentiment is true just the same. Aizen has no real desire to be without either of them, not now.

“I think I’m done,” Ulquiorra murmurs after a while, and Aizen moves away from the tub to collect body wash, shampoo, and conditioner from the shelves. “I can wash myself.”

“But you’re not going to do that.” Aizen sits back down, having added a soft washcloth to the pile of bottles in his hands. “Let me wash you. You’ll find I’m quite good at this part.”

Ulquiorra rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch up as he finally gives a small nod. “Fine, fine. Just make it well worth my while if you’re going to do it.”

Aizen makes a show of it, soaking the washcloth in the tub before lathering it with soap that compliments what Byakuya has chosen for the bath already. He’s slow and careful with his hands, making sure to leave no part of Ulquiorra’s body untouched but not lingering anywhere Ulquiorra would probably like him to. He presses a kiss to the side of Ulquiorra’s ankle after he finishes with one pale leg, smiling when Ulquiorra huffs down at him.

He gives him a thorough scalp massage while he washes and conditions his hair, then drains the tub and runs fresh water from the taps to wash the soap off. Only when Ulquiorra is clear of suds does he wrap a hand around Ulquiorra’s cock, startling a small sound from his throat.

“Look at me, sub,” he murmurs, and Ulquiorra’s eyes snap to his own, wide and gleaming, mouth slack enough that Aizen can see the pink of his tongue. “Very pretty for me. Do you want to come? You’ve been such a good boy for me this evening.”

Ulquiorra nods, his breath hitching when Aizen gives him one full stroke from base to tip, fingers stroking along the thick vein along the underside. “Please, Sir.”

“You were so mouthy with me, though.” Aizen strokes him again, too slowly to get him off, too little to do anything other than frustrate him. “Should I reward bad behavior?”

“N-No, Sir.” Ulquiorra bites his lip, clearly frustrated, torn between what he wants and what he knows to be his mistake. “I’m sorry, Sir. It was rude of me.”

Chuckling, Aizen leans over the edge of the tub, grips Ulquiorra by the chin and licks into his mouth. His lips are soft and yielding, lush and warm and wet against Aizen’s own and he moans softly when Ulquiorra’s tongue meets his own, curling against his, slick and hot. The hand Aizen has on his cock wanders lower, cupping his balls to squeeze them slightly, enjoying the little noise Ulquiorra makes against his mouth. He licks it from between those full lips, savoring the flavor of Ulquiorra’s pleasure, of his perfect submission.

“My good boy.” Aizen whispers the words against his lips, then wraps a hand around the back of his neck and squeezes. “You’re going to come for me. I want to watch you come undone.”

Ulquiorra nods, his eyes burning with sincerity. “Thank you, Sir.”

“But you’re going to touch your own cock. I need to hold you in place for the perfect viewing experience. And…” Aizen’s fingers slip lower, teasing along the edge of Ulquiorra’s rim, enjoying the way it twitches beneath the pads of his fingers. “I’m going to have my other hand occupied.”

His fingers are just wet enough and Ulquiorra relaxed enough that he can slide two inside of him without much struggle, curling them up against his prostate and massaging the bundle of nerves there intently. Ulquiorra wraps a hand around his own cock, whimpering softly while he strokes himself to the rhythm of the fingers inside of him. He’s radiant just like this.

“My brave sub,” Aizen murmurs, and Ulquiorra looks up at him, mouth falling open around his soft panting. “You opened up to us. You let us into a part of you that is so dark and frightened and torn apart by your past for the good of our relationship. Brave, sweet boy. I am so proud of you for being forthcoming with us. Now let me show you just how proud I am.”

He kisses Ulquiorra with bruising intensity, listening to him whine and groan as Aizen massages his prostate, pressing up into it until Ulquiorra’s hips come up off of the porcelain of the tub. His skin is wet and flushed pink from the heat of the water, his face red and his lips kissed swollen, his eyes wet but not in a way that has Aizen concerned. He kisses a tear off of Ulquiorra’s cheek and then kisses him again, whispering reassurance while Ulquiorra’s hips roll, fucking up into his own fist and onto the fingers that keep their steady rhythm deep inside.

“Perfection. I love seeing you like this.” Aizen bites down on Ulquiorra's lower lip, soothing the tender flesh with his tongue before sucking on it hard. “I want you to let go for me and trust me to catch you, sub. I want you to give me everything.”

Ulquiorra moans against his mouth and Aizen swallows the sound. “S-Sir, please—”

“I can feel you getting tighter around my fingers. I know you’re close.” Aizen presses a third finger in just for the stretch, just to listen to Ulquiorra whine, watch his eyes squeeze shut at the pressure and the intensity against such a sensitive part of his body. “Let go. Just let go.”

He’s not expecting Ulquiorra to look at him with that intense gaze, his lips trembling before he manages to get the words out he’s struggling so hard with. “I love you, Sir.”

The words arrow Aizen right in the heart and he kisses Ulquiorra, cradling the back of his head, rubbing harder against his prostate until Ulquiorra all but screams into his mouth. He knows when Ulquiorra comes, can feel the way his walls squeeze and throb around the fingers Aizen still has inside of him. Only when Ulquiorra slumps down against the tub, panting harshly, looking a mess, does Aizen remove his fingers. He’s glad he left the taps running, using the water to quickly wash Ulquiorra off before shutting the water off entirely.

“You said you loved me.” He doesn’t know why it surprises him so much.

Uncertain eyes meet his and Ulquiorra bites down on his lower lip. “Was that bad, Sir?”

“No. I’m very thankful.” Aizen kisses him softly, runs his hand down Ulquiorra’s face. “I love you, too, sweet sub. Now let’s get you dressed and downstairs to eat. Byakuya’s probably stayed true to his word and made something better than anything you’ve ever had.”

The way Ulquiorra giggles up at him makes his heart feel overly full with affection, but he only helps him up out of the tub and wraps him up in the fluffiest towel he owns, sitting him down on the stool so he can dry Ulquiorra’s hair and brush it shiny and smooth around his face. The soft flush in his cheeks and the way his eyes flutter lets Aizen know that he’s enjoying himself, and it makes him feel so warm he’s beside himself for a moment.

What did he do to earn this beautiful boy? Certainly not enough. It just isn’t possible.

After he’s dried and dressed, Aizen takes him by the hand and walks him downstairs; the small secret little smile on Ulquiorra’s face makes his stomach feel full with butterflies. Byakuya seems to notice as soon as they walk into the kitchen that something is up, his gaze drifting from Ulquiorra’s face to Aizen’s, slender dark brows raised in question.

Aizen shakes his head, and Byakuya accepts it. Not now. Maybe not at all.

“There you are,” Byakuya croons, turning his attention to Ulquiorra instead, who blinks languidly up at him before his smile widens and  _ God, _ it feels so good to see him smiling like this after what he’d gone through just an hour ago. “We’ve been waiting for you before we ate.”

Grimmjow turns around in his chair, his expression grave. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Fantastic.” Ulquiorra drops Aizen’s hand to go to Grimmjow, wrapping his arms around Grimmjow’s shoulders and kissing him so hard that Grimmjow makes a small surprised noise against his lips, leaning back to look at him with wide eyes. “Did you have fun cooking?”

“Yeah. You look like you really enjoyed that bath.” Grimmjow beams up at him and Ulquiorra nods, kissing him on the forehead before sitting down at the table.

Aizen wraps his arms around Byakuya’s waist, pulling his husband up against his chest and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for cooking for us all. You are perfect in all ways.”

“Not even close, but you wouldn’t know the difference.” Byakuya runs a hand through his hair, wrapping the long strands around his fingers. “Looks like you finished what I started, very good. That was fun. We should definitely do that more often, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes. Spoiling our boys is a fun group project.” Aizen smiles, then sighs softly when Byakuya kisses him in approval, giving his hair the lightest of tugs.

Renji’s voice breaks them apart. “Can you two get over here and eat?”

Though he promised himself he wouldn’t think so hard about this, watching his partners interact around the table while they eat dinner together makes something warm unfurl in Aizen’s gut. He wants it to be like this. Amazing, that he didn’t even consider the prospect that the relationships he and Byakuya kept outside of their marriage might find their way in just the same and present to them a way of living that blends the best of every single world together.

He wants it to stay like this. Is that selfish? Probably. No one ever signed up for that.

Thinking about moving Grimmjow and Ulquiorra in after this fiasco is firmly against any good ideas he could possibly have; they clearly need their space and he has no desire to try to get them to move in right now. As it stands, if things go well with Rukia and Ulquiorra, and they do take her in, he has no delusions. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are not ready for children, which is fine, and he has no problem working that out so everyone is happy in the end. If things change later down the road, then perfect. Planning that far in advance is for idiots, though, especially when so many changes can come between now and then.

Hoping for the best is fine, but  _ planning _ for it? No. Aizen will cross each bridge he comes to as necessary and they’ll figure this out along the way. Not preparation for something not guaranteed or even discussed at this point.

“Are you two going to stay the night?” Byakuya asks. “I know it’s probably not best to drive home in the rain, but the roads will probably be iced over in the morning.”

Grimmjow shrugs a shoulder, looks at Ulquiorra. “You brought some stuff just in case this happened, right? You cool if we just stay the night here?”

“It’s fine with me. I brought my tablet, so I can work. And my sketchbook.” Ulquiorra moans around a bite of chicken and Byakuya very nearly drops his chopsticks; Aizen chuckles to himself at the sight. “This is very good, Byakuya. You did an excellent job.”

Byakuya preens, tightens his grip on his chopsticks. “Thank you. And sketchbook? Have you gotten along with traditional supplies once more? I’d love to see.”

“I have. They all finally came in and I used them to design Bazz’s logo.” Ulquiorra nearly  _ glows _ when he talks about art; Aizen makes a note to ask him if he’s been to all the museums nearby, if they should make a day trip of it. “I’ll show you after dinner. I’ve… I’ve drawn all of you.”

_ Of course you have, sweet boy. _ “We’d love to see your work if you want to share.”

Ulquiorra smiles all the way through dinner. Aizen wonders, briefly and against common sense, what it would be like if it could be this way always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grimmjow's gonna have the job of his life (or maybe his death) in the next chapter. take a wild shot in the dark and tell me who you think he's going to be training at his gym.


	27. it has to be hard sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** this chapter is very rough emotionally
> 
> **sexual content:** only implied

_ It’s fine. _ Grimmjow aims a punch at the sandbag in front of him, careful to keep his breathing regulated, his attention in front of him as he lands punch after punch, listening to the sound of his knuckles bouncing off of the bag.  _ It’s fine. He had to tell someone else first. It’s fine. He told us anyway. He told me literally an hour later. It’s fine. I’m not mad. Not jealous. It’s fine. It’s fine. _

The force with which the bag reacts to his punches tells Grimmjow just how much he’s lying to himself, stopping only when he realizes he isn’t getting anywhere in this. Groaning, he slumps against the wall, letting himself slide down into a sitting position on the floor. Ulquiorra going to Bazz shouldn’t make him feel this conflicted, not when Ulquiorra  _ literally _ told him right as soon as he got home. Not when Ulquiorra was so afraid, when he just wanted a neutral party to give him the perspective he needed to approach the conversation, but…

But Ulquiorra had been suffering from that in silence for how long now? Since the conversation with Byakuya, the first one that just blew up under them without any of them realizing it? Longer than that? Certainly the pain has been there for a while now but he’s never let anything on. Maybe as soon as they started talking about things with Aizen as a relationship and not just casual sex that was going to let Grimmjow explore BDSM in a safe environment.

He shouldn’t be jealous. The fact he’s  _ jealous _ of a man who works as a performer in his favorite band only serves to make his brain foggier, his thoughts running wild and much harder to pin down as he stares across the length of the gym. Bazzard Black was one of the first people Grimmjow ever really looked up to as a person.

And Ulquiorra chose him over all of them. Chose him to talk to over all of them.

_ You are sitting over here all on your own withholding information and not communicating, you piece of shit, _ he snaps at himself, irritation coursing through his veins the longer he contemplates all of this.  _ Why the fuck didn’t you just tell him then and there that it upset you? This whole thing is about lack of communication and now you’re the one doing it! _

He wishes they hadn’t gone to Las Noches after all. Everything was perfect with Ulquiorra before Grimmjow wanted to visit the damned club, but now he’s sitting here doubting everything he thought to be true and trying to figure out where he went wrong and gave Ulquiorra the impression that he couldn’t just come straight to any of them and tell them what was wrong.

_ This isn’t about that, holy shit. _ Grimmjow scrubs his hands over his face, muffling a frustrated groan against his palms.  _ He picked a stranger because he’s got all this irrational shit to get through. He said that himself. Do you just not believe a damn thing he told you? _

Maybe he doesn’t. Ulquiorra lied to them, didn’t he? He said he was fine with taking Rukia in when he wasn’t. Maybe there’s just more lies, and he wasn’t being honest after all.

Coming to work early to get this frustration out was  _ not _ supposed to turn out like this.

The PA system clicks on.  _ “Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, please come to the front office.” _

Fucking amazing. What are the odds of him getting in trouble, maybe even fired, on top of everything else that’s happened over the weekend? That’d be one hell of a Monday.

Zommari Rureaux is a hell of an imposing man in size but a peaceful person at heart, something Grimmjow has always valued, and he projects an aura of calm that does absolutely jack shit to make Grimmjow not want to claw his skin off in frustration. He drops down into a chair on the other side of Zommari’s desk, watches the man tap out something on the keyboard in front of him before he turns dark gold eyes on Grimmjow, as if measuring him.

That only makes Grimmjow all the more concerned about what this is for. “You needed me?”

“I do. This matter does not leave the office. The last thing I need is the press finding out and staking the place out.” Zommari sighs heavily and Grimmjow’s eyes widen; a secret? The press?  _ What the hell is going on? _ “Do you know who Coyote Starrk is?

_ Oh no. No no no. _ “Yeah, I know of him. The actor. He’s not so bad.”  _ He’s fucking awful. _

Nodding, Zommari tents his fingers atop the desk and sighs softly. “He’s been ill since the release of his last film and is only recently recovered, but they’re preparing for production on the sequel soon. He has shirtless scenes. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“He needs a personal trainer.” Because of course he does. Actors don’t tend to do shit if left to their own devices, which is why they have trainers in the first place.

“Yes. Coming off of an illness is difficult, so he needs someone with the experience to handle that, and to get him where he needs to be by production date.” Zommari shuffles some papers around on his desk, then looks back up. “Which is in three months.”

Three months is… Not a lot, but Grimmjow has a few names in mind out of the other trainers who work here. “Tesla’d be best, probably. He’s got the most experience with—”

“Tesla doesn’t have the general experience I’d wish from someone in such a delicate position,” Zommari interrupts, and Grimmjow bites his tongue. “He does have experience with such a situation, but in general, his portfolio isn’t very stacked.”

That’s fair; Tesla is new and hasn’t had the same number of clients the rest of them have, lacks the history most of them do with clientele in general. Grimmjow has been here for years, after all, has had people come and go but it all stacks in his favor because he busts his ass to make sure his clients bust their asses. He has a reputation to maintain and bills to pay, and the easiest way to do that is to be good enough at his job to become indispensable.

“What about Aaron? He was even at another gym before coming here.” Sure, Aaron’s personality might leave a little to be desired and that weird cackle of his is off-putting, but he’d probably behave himself if it meant losing his balls for not doing that.

Zommari sighs softly. “Are you beating around the bush to annoy me?”

“I’m just giving you recommendations.” Grimmjow rolls his eyes. “Why would I be beating around the bush? Did you not bring me in here to give you recs—”

Oh  _ shit. _ From the way Zommari arches a brow at him, that wasn’t what he was called in for. Maybe Zommari is just letting him in on the one thing that might boost their business before the New Year comes just so he can yank the rug out from under him and fire him after all.

“You have been here the longest,” Zommari says slowly, and Grimmjow’s eyes widen.  _ Fuck, maybe I’m right and I am getting fired. _ “You have the best track record of any trainer here. You’re the most established trainer and all of your clients have nothing but kind things to say about you. Grimmjow, the only trainer here who is capable of making sure Starrk is in the shape he needs to be in for this upcoming film is you, so you’ll be doing the job.”

The world pretty much comes to a standstill at that; Grimmjow stares at him for what is probably only a minute or two but feels like hours, like the sun could have fallen and risen once more without him noticing in some weird artsy montage.  _ Train _ Coyote Starrk? One of the current most famous actors in Japan? Train him for the shitty sequel to his shitty romance film?  _ Los Lobos _ wasn’t even a good movie when Grimmjow gave it a fair chance on his own and—

And he remembers watching it with Ulquiorra and Aizen. The night Aizen role Ulquiorra’s thigh, and they talked about trust and his hands ball up into frustrated fists. He needs to take more swings at the bag before he does anything else today. He  _ has _ to.

“Is something bothering you?” Zommari asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“No, man, I’m good.” Grimmjow shakes his head; this is not going to affect his job. He’s a professional. “Just, it’s been a weird morning. Why do I have to train Starrk? Anyone else could get the job done. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“That’s probably true but I want the insurance of it being you. I don’t have any reason to think you’re going to fail any part of this assignment,” Zommari says firmly.

This is probably true except Grimmjow doesn’t want anything to do with this, with Starrk or his next no doubt queerbaiting installment of what has become a franchise, somehow, despite being maybe one of the worst films ever made. The thought of having to see the man himself every day makes Grimmjow’s mouth twist; it’s one thing to see constant reminders that men who love men are great for nothing more than exciting and titillating people who on some level must have fallen for that  _ deviancy _ shit a long time ago if they thought it was so scandalous and hot. But having to work with a man, be  _ professional _ with a man, who sells that idea pisses him off.

Zommari sighs. “You look like you need time to think about this. I can give you that. But you need to get back to me by the end of the week so we can start as soon as possible. Starrk’s entourage isn’t a patient group of people, but I can’t say I blame them.”

“I blame them plenty.” Grimmjow pushes himself up from his chair, heaving a sigh before giving a quick nod. “I’ll do you one better and give you an answer by Wednesday. And I won’t tell anyone what you just told me. Thanks for considering me for the gig.”

“Take care of yourself.” Zommari’s eyes narrow slightly. “I know you have personal life stresses at home that you can’t just shut off when you walk through those doors, but there are a variety of ways our clients can hurt themselves during training. I need you to be on top of them.”

The dig at the idea he might not be as professional as he needs to be smarts, especially when Zommari wants him to work with some famous asshole he has no desire to deal with. But it’s fair. Grimmjow is mad, and being mad means making mistakes. “I promise I’m not going to let it get in the way of my job. No matter what happens, no one is going to get hurt.”

“Good man.” And finally, Zommari smiles, and Grimmjow breathes a sigh of relief. “Get on back to warming up. Your first client shows up in about fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes is just enough time to blow off enough steam to get through the day.

He goes back to hitting the bag because it works for him, moving around it in a half-circle, trading up punches for kicks and knees so he doesn’t make a mistake and mess up his hands too much for them to be useful. Now he’s pissed for a different reason but that can wait; he remembers how happy Ulquiorra was when he greeted him coming home, how he was ready to launch right into his painful past just off the back of already doing it once. Grimmjow shakes his head; it’s not  _ fair. _ What did some stranger do to earn Ulquiorra’s trust so quickly that he knew what was up before all of the rest of them? Grimmjow has been with him for years.

Maybe Ulquiorra doesn’t trust him. Maybe him being the first relationship coming off the back of the one that blew up in his face means he can’t trust Grimmjow at all.

_ It’s not like it was all their fault that they went and did this, _ Grimmjow thinks, kicking the bag so hard it swings on the chain holding it upright.  _ You hit shit from them too. I bet it broke your heart, I know it did, but you didn’t tell them the truth, Quiorra. You let them believe a lie of omission because it made your life easier and then got mad when it didn’t. _

That’s not fair. He knows it isn’t fair, and he stops himself, shaking his head.

Damn it. Things were  _ perfect. _ He wishes he could turn back time and tell Ulquiorra they could just use handcuffs or something at the house instead of going to a sex club.

Maybe,  _ maybe _ the smallest part of him is annoyed at the fact Ulquiorra was rewarded, and coddled, and adored for making these mistakes and putting a new friend before all of them— No, that isn’t fair either. He was rewarded for telling them the truth, but isn’t that just basic relationship shit? Aren’t you supposed to be honest and upfront with each other?

Has Ulquiorra been lying to him about more than just this? Are there other secrets?

The inside of Grimmjow’s mouth goes dry.  _ Does he even want to be with those three, or is that something he’s doing because he knows it’s what I want to do? _

With five minutes to spare, he towels the sweat off of the back of his neck and is waiting in place when his client of the morning breezes in. Luppi Antenor is on the newer end of the spectrum, bubbly and flamboyant in a way that would have drawn Grimmjow’s attention back when he was half-considering just quitting university. Right before he actually did. He also stands almost an entire foot shorter than Grimmjow and weighs one hundred pounds soaking wet. Literally.

The first time Grimmjow had him weigh in was after a rainstorm. He almost passed out in shock.

“Hi, Grimm.” Luppi bounces up to him, all energy and bright sunny attitude even though it’s early and the sky outside is dark, the snow pelting down from the sky. “You don’t look happy.”

“Long weekend, Luppi. Nothing for you to worry about, I promise.” Grimmjow rolls his neck; he needs to stretch before he goes home. “Let’s get you stretched and warmed up.”

Working with Luppi at least takes his mind off of everything because at heart, Grimmjow will always be a professional. They train more in flexibility and endurance than anything else; Luppi has more stamina when it comes to running than most of the men Grimmjow knows, and his health is impeccable despite his admittance that he doesn’t take much care of his diet the way he probably should. There were a few changes made to make sure he didn’t pass out in the middle of working out, but otherwise his metabolism seems fantastic.

He’s also chatty. He talks all the time if he’s not occupied, and when he is, Grimmjow has to pay attention to him. It’s a good recipe for making him focus on the moment and not go wandering off down some trivial thought train that might get him in trouble.

Luppi’s good mood is also infectious. Grimmjow is in a good mood when he sends his last client home for the evening and then realizes he’s going to have to go home and deal with Ulquiorra, and he really doesn’t want to have to do that right now. That in and of itself is a bad sign, and he knows it. So he takes out frustration on one of the bags until he just has enough time to shower.

Ulquiorra is still awake when he gets home hours later than he said he would be; there were a couple of text messages asking where he was but he ignored those, leaving them on Read so Ulquiorra knew he saw them and was choosing not to answer. It was petty, bullshit, teenage boy behavior and Grimmjow knows that and he does it anyway. He won’t be surprised if Ulquiorra is particularly furious with him for making him worry for hours and stay up so late.

“Sorry I’m late,” Grimmjow calls out in the general direction of the kitchen, tossing his bag on the ground. Laundry day is tomorrow, so he’ll worry about it then. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

“I know that. I was just worried.” Ulquiorra’s voice doesn’t contain a single inflection, but Grimmjow knows he has to be upset. Who wouldn’t be, if their boyfriend ignored them?

When he walks into the kitchen, he finds dinner wrapped up and sitting at his usual chair while Ulquiorra is bent over his sketchbook, a set of charcoal pencils lying next to him on the table. Nothing seems out of place about this; he glances at the picture out of curiosity but it’s just a pair of wolves, which reminds him of  _ Los Lobos _ and Starrk and every goddamn unfair thing that has happened today. Whatever stress he managed to work out returns full force.

“We have to talk,” he says, and it comes out louder than he intends, and meaner. Ulquiorra lifts his head cautiously, setting his pencil down. “About you. And Bazz. And all this secret shit.”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra scrunches up his nose but closes his sketchbook and replaces his pencils in their package before sitting up in his chair. “Are you angry with me for telling him first instead of telling you? Or are you just angry with me for keeping secrets in general?”

“Both. It’s really both.” Grimmjow debates not eating, because it’s going to be hard to talk this out— to  _ argue, _ is probably what will happen— and eat at the same time, but he kicked his own ass today and that means he’ll be in an awful mood if he goes to bed without eating. “He’s a stranger. Okay, whatever, he’s your friend. Good for you, you managed to make friends with one of  _ my _ idols and then went behind my back and told him all this shit about your past.”

Ulquiorra presses his lips together and nods, folding his hands on top of his sketchbook, and sometimes Grimmjow hates how he can smooth out his expression like he feels nothing at all.  _ Maybe the waterworks are only real when he wants them to be. _ “I understand that. It was wrong of me not to come to you first. More than anyone else. I’ve been with you the longest.”

“Yeah. You have been. Nice of you to remember that when everything is said and done.” He turns his back on Ulquiorra.  _ Heat up your food and don’t let him cry you out of this. _

“That’s not fair,” Ulquiorra protests. “I have never, not once, acted as though I don’t value our relationship. I was scared, Grimmjow. Maybe that fear was irrational. I’m willing to admit that it is. But it would have hurt me less to lose a new friend than it would have you.”

Grimmjow tries very hard not to slam the plate into the microwave and just barely succeeds. “Cool! You think so little of me and what my reaction would have been that you think I’d leave you just like that, huh? Over something like  _ you _ not communicating, but maybe you have a point because that story of yours just illustrates that you aren’t honest with anyone.”

“If you think that you can’t trust me because all I do is lie, then I should go.” Ulquiorra stands and Grimmjow whips his head around, mute from shock.  _ Go? _ “If you think you can’t trust me, that this relationship is built on lies, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

“I never said that.” But he had been, hadn’t he? He’s been thinking it all day.

Ulquiorra’s eyes narrow at him and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Then what  _ are _ you saying? I know it’s shitty of me to go and talk to Bazz first. I’ve recognized that. I know, okay? But I was afraid. Maybe it wasn’t rational to be afraid. But I watched the woman I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with tell me she didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Do you still love her? Are you even capable of loving the rest of us if you’re still hung up on her?” Grimmjow demands, punching buttons on the microwave. Fuck, who cares if it burns?

“No, I don’t. That’s not the point I’m trying to make. You’re being unfair to me.” Ulquiorra drops back down in his chair and he looks fucking  _ miserable _ for a second before he covers it back up behind that mask. “The point is that I never thought that would happen. I never imagined it could, and then it did, and I lost everything in that moment. It was frightening to me. It’s hard to shake that feeling, that everything is only one conversation from ending.”

“Then maybe don’t keep fucking secrets that are going to piss people off and make them think they’d be better off without you!” Grimmjow thunders, and the minute the words leave his lips, words he doesn’t even  _ mean, _ Ulquiorra’s face blanches impossibly paler.

“Oh.” He stands slowly. “Okay. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this anymore. I’m going to go lie down on the couch. You can have the bed to yourself tonight.”

Grimmjow swears and catches Ulquiorra by the wrist when he tries to walk by, yanking him back against his chest. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t fucking mean that. I’m just mad.”

“You don’t get to verbally berate me because you’re angry with me. That was too far.” Ulquiorra’s voice is quiet, too quiet, too drained and exhausted and Grimmjow suddenly feels bad for making him worry, for making him sit up all night waiting for him when he could have just told him he would be late, to go to bed. They could have talked in the morning.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He presses his face against the top of Ulquiorra’s head and feels impossibly awful about everything. “Please sit back down. I really want us to talk about this.”

Ulquiorra shrugs his arms off which hurts, but is fair, and sits back down on his side of the table. “I’m not lying to you about everything. You were the first person in my life who made me think it might be worth it to open up to someone again. It was unfair of me to tell Bazz first, but I’m not going to apologize for not telling you at all. My dating history doesn’t have to be any of your business. And I’ve talked about having exes before.  _ You _ never asked about them.”

“You should have told me if it was going to be a problem in the relationship we’re in right now. Fuck, Byakuya didn’t deserve that. Yeah, not asking us outright at first was shitty, but… You should have told him the truth.” Grimmjow really, against all hope, is praying Ulquiorra and Rukia get along. Giving Byakuya false hope was so fucking unnecessarily cruel.

“I know that. You think I don’t know that? Why do you think I sat down with them and told them after I told you? Every time I talk about them, it’s like ripping my heart out of my chest all over again.” Ulquiorra rubs his hands over his face and exhales heavily as the microwave beeps. Grimmjow wonders if he’s on the verge of tears again. “But it’s in the past.”

“Yeah. It is. This thing with Bazz? Isn’t. Why him? Why not me?” The last thing Grimmjow wants to do is eat and he contemplates going to bed without food even if he’s extra grouchy and drained in the morning. Better not, Nel comes in tomorrow morning.

Exhausted green eyes peer at him through Ulquiorra’s spread fingers. “Because it was easy with someone who means less to me than you do. Like I said, if he said I was a piece of shit and it was all my fault, or if he just fucked off on me, no big deal. We’ve only just met. I already got paid. But if it was you… I don’t think I could have handled that. I love you  _ so _ much.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Grimmjow mutters, sitting down at the table.

“I deserved that.” Ulquiorra drops his hands and for the first time, Grimmjow notices the dark circles under his eyes and wonders just how little he’s been sleeping.

Even reheated the food is delicious, which just pissed Grimmjow off a little bit more, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s about to protest when Ulquiorra stands up and walks past him because they aren’t  _ done _ but Ulquiorra only retrieves a beer from the fridge and sets it on the table next to his plate before returning to his own seat. Oh. Grimmjow hadn’t thought to get himself anything to drink; Ulquiorra was just getting it for him.

“I’ll do better. I’m really going to get professional help so that I won’t be like this anymore.” Ulquiorra stares down at the cover of his sketchbook, tracing invisible patterns on it with the tip of his finger. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to get it out to someone and I just, I chose the wrong person. I’m sorry, Grimmjow. I really do love you, even if I’m really bad at showing it lately. But if you don’t think that’s enough, tell me how to make it up to you.”

Grimmjow swallows a mouthful of rice a little too hard, but he doesn’t care. “Are there any more secrets you aren’t telling me about like this one? Things I might actually need to know that are impacting your mental health and will probably impact our romantic relationship?”

“No. That’s all. Everything was fine before that and nothing happened after until I met you.” Ulquiorra shrugs weakly, like he wishes there  _ were _ something he could share. “I got this job, I guess? I threw myself into university even more than I already did and I almost crashed halfway through my last semester and thought about just throwing it all away. And then I met you and things were better for a while. All of this… Just started dredging it all back up.”

All of this. Byakuya, Aizen, and Renji. The talk of having a child. Grimmjow nods slowly, letting that sink in as he eats. He doesn’t taste any of it, not really; it might as well taste like ash, but his body is going to thank him for it so he gets it down. Ulquiorra is quiet the entire time, not looking at him, staring down at his sketchbook, at his own hands, at his lap.

“It’s not fun going to work and wondering if your boyfriend of literally  _ years _ . Years, Ulquiorra, we’ve been together for  _ years _ ,” Grimmjow stresses, and he almost doesn’t give a shit when Ulquiorra flinches at the inflection, the way his voice jumps up in volume again. “Is lying to you. Picks other people over you. That  _ you _ did something wrong that he didn’t want to come to you, that he picked someone  _ you _ idolized so that you couldn’t even listen to that band to feel better because it would just bring up bad memories. Do you know how that feels?”

Oh shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have phrased it that way.

“I do, to an extent,” Ulquiorra murmurs, picking at the coiling on his sketchbook. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. You didn’t do anything wrong, Grimmjow. You’ve been perfect for me and to me. It’s just me. It’s just my head being all fucked up. You’ve never done anything to hurt me.”

Except maybe half the shit he’s said tonight. Great. That’s fun to think about.

Ulquiorra clears his throat and looks up at him, and his expression is unreadable. That might be better just this once. “When I met you, it changed my perspective. I kept people at arm’s length because I was tired of being hurt. I pushed away most of my own friends. I didn’t want to risk it happening again even though I recognize it’s still partially my fault. But you… Were different. You opened my eyes. And I’ve hurt you now, and I hate it, and I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve to feel bad because of a selfish choice I made out of a fear that didn’t even make sense.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t feel much better. But even though Ulquiorra can keep his expressions to himself, his eyes burn with an intensity that Grimmjow recognizes well; he means it. “I’m sorry for… Saying that sideways shit that you didn’t deserve to have hurtled at you. I just got mad and said things I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean that you deserved them.”

“It’s fine. I understand. I’m not going to hold it against you.” Ulquiorra wets his lips, a bad nervous habit. “I’m not trying to derail the conversation, I just… Are we okay?”

His breaks just the smallest bit on the last word and Grimmjow sets his fork down, not even realizing he’d finished his food until this very moment. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good. C’mere.”

He pushes his chair back from the table and holds out his arms, and for a moment Ulquiorra doesn’t move, just stares at him before he picks himself up out of his chair and comes to sit in Grimmjow’s lap. They hold each other and Grimmjow squeezes him tight, glad they could talk and resolve this. He just wishes he was half as good at getting through this shit as Byakuya was because he doesn’t know how to make things  _ better _ now that the raw pain of it is over.

“How was work?” Ulquiorra asks when he leans back, making like he’s going to go back to his seat.  _ Not likely, _ Grimmjow thinks, tightening his grip around him.

Fuck.  _ Work. _ “Looks like our position as one of the most reputable gyms with one of the best track records is finally catching up with us. I have to train a fucking celebrity for his next movie and I couldn’t be more horrified at who it is.”

“Who?” Ulquiorra asks, and then his eyes widen. “Oh. Oh, it’s… You’re kidding me.”

“The hits just keep coming,” Grimmjow says, and then he feels bad, leaning up to peck Ulquiorra on the lips so he knows that wasn’t about him. Wasn’t meant to be, anyway. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m not trying to take shots at you now that we’ve talked about things.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head, and Grimmjow thinks again that he looks so tired. Maybe he didn’t sleep well over the weekend, and then Grimmjow kept him up later. “So, Coyote Starrk.”

“The one and only.  _ How _ am I supposed to resist the urge to tell him that all of his films but especially  _ Los Lobos _ piss me off on a very human level because I’m tired of him profiting off of making it look sexy to have chemistry with a man?” Grimmjow rolls his eyes hard. It’s going to be the worst part of his life, he’s absolutely sure of it.

But the expression makes Ulquiorra giggle, so it’s worth it. “You’d probably get fired if you did, so just keep reminding yourself about how much you love your job.”

“That’s true. Zommari would hand me my ass if I fucked this up.” Grimmjow groans at the thought and then buries his face against Ulquiorra’s neck. “Save me from him.”

“I’m assuming you can’t say no to this because of how big of a deal it would be for your business when Starrk eventually name drops you in an interview a year from now,” Ulquiorra quips, fingers combing through Grimmjow’s hair, and Grimmjow snorts against his skin. “Is there no one else who can do it, or has Zommari decided that it  _ has _ to be you?”

“It’s me for sure. I’m the best.” Grimmjow presses his lips against Ulquiorra’s throat, enjoying the way his boyfriend’s breath hitches at the gentle touch. “That’s. Part of the reason I was mad, and you didn’t deserve to have to deal with that, so I apologize for taking it out on you.”

Ulquiorra kisses his forehead and Grimmjow closes his eyes, soaking in the tenderness of the gesture. “No worries. We needed to have the conversation. Next time something is wrong, I’ll come directly to you to talk about it. Thank you for not… For not just leaving over it.”

The thought makes Grimmjow’s arms tighten around Ulquiorra’s waist, and now that he’s thinking more rationally, he realizes how fucking heartbreaking it is that Ulquiorra might be living with the fear that he could just lose them all. “I’m not going anywhere. No offense, but I’m pretty fucking content with the way things are. I was fantasizing about marriage a year ago.”

“Romantic sap. Maybe we’ll get married one day, then.” Ulquiorra leans back to look down at him and the thought makes Grimmjow’s heart beat faster.  _ Hell yeah. _ He couldn’t imagine anyone else on the other side of the altar. “Are you tired? You look exhausted.”

“I could say the same thing about you, baby. But it’s been a long three days, so I get it.” Grimmjow stands with Ulquiorra in his arms, and he weighs so little that it’s easy even though Grimmjow might have fucked up his shoulders today.  _ Shit. _ “Let’s go to bed. I gotta get up early from work but I’m off early, too. How about we do something? Just the two of us?”

“I want to draw you,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow stills, looking down at him, not sure he heard that just right. “Like… Naked. I’ve been thinking about that. I used to take an independent art class where we drew nude studies all the time. I’d like to try it again.”

Grimmjow nods, trying to ignore the heat that is slowly gathering south at the thought of just lying naked somewhere for Ulquiorra to draw him.  _ Holy fuck, why is that idea so hot? _ “You got it. Let’s get something to eat when I get home and then I’ll model naked for you.”

Ulquiorra beams up at him and Grimmjow thinks, right then and there, he might have fallen in love with him all over again. What  _ can’t _ this man do to him?

“You’re wicked,” Grimmjow tells him, and then he heaves Ulquiorra up over his shoulder, howling with laughter when Ulquiorra yelps and smacks him on the back, one hand aiming lower and nailing him on the ass. “That hurt! Watch where you’re slapping!”

“Put me down,” Ulquiorra demands, but Grimmjow ignores him and carries him upstairs.

He tosses Ulquiorra down on the bed so hard the mattress bounces, covering him with his own body, pinning him down beneath his weight, nosing the side of his neck. “I put you down. You know, I can’t draw for shit, but you could let me photograph you naked.”

“You’re the worst,” Ulquiorra murmurs, but he tilts his head back and Grimmjow accepts the offering, sucking a hickey onto the side of his neck, lips and tongue working the soft pale skin while Ulquiorra moans softly for him. “Marking your territory, are you? How like a cat.”

“You and that damn cat imagery of yours.” Grimmjow drags his teeth over the spot and Ulquiorra squirms beneath him; he can feel Ulquiorra half-hard against his stomach and smirks against his skin, lips trailing to another spot to mark. Just because Ulquiorra brought it up.

He gets paid back in spades for the hickeys when they finally settle in to actually  _ sleep, _ his back sore from the press of Ulquiorra’s fingertips, where his heels dug into the small of Grimmjow’s back. There might be marks on his hips in the morning too from where Ulquiorra’s thighs had been pressed so tight to them and if that’s not the sexiest image he’s ever had, he doesn’t know what is. If he takes off his shirt tomorrow at the gym, every single person who looks at him is going to realize that he’d gotten some the night before. Now  _ that _ is a thought.

“I’m exhausted,” Ulquiorra yawns, letting Grimmjow pull him close, nuzzle at one of the spots he’d marked on his throat. “Easy, it’s gonna be a little sore in the morning.”

“You regret letting me do it?” Grimmjow asks him, rubbing up and down his sides.

A stupidly dopey smile crosses his face when Ulquiorra shakes his head, feeling one of the bruises with his fingers. “No. It’s a pleasant soreness. I like feeling like I belong to you.”

“You do, as long as you want to.” Grimmjow kisses him long and slow, cupping the back of his head, the other wandering down to the small of his back to pull him impossibly closer. Literally never is he not going to be into the fact that he can manhandle Ulquiorra pretty much as he pleases, having the size and strength advantage. “Forever, if that’s really what you want.”

“It is.” Ulquiorra cups his cheek, fingers tracing along the line of his cheekbone. “Did you really mean what you said about marriage? You’ve really thought about the two of us getting married?”

He could be joking. He could be serious. Grimmjow errs on the side of caution. “Yeah, I have. When I thought about who I was going to be spending the rest of my life with, it was always you. So yeah, I’d kill to be the one who gets to put a ring on your finger.”

“Then ask me,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow just stops for a whole two minutes.

When he inhales, the breath shakes in his lungs and threatens to overfill his throat. “Ulquiorra Cifer, you’re the love of my life. You mean more to me than anyone else ever has and I can’t imagine a future without you in it. I don’t  _ want _ a future without you in it. Will you marry me?

Ulquiorra leans up, his lips brushing against Grimmjow’s ear. “Of course I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i KNOW this was a rollercoaster chapter but they've been together like five or six years that's enough right. anyway. hitting 150k is literally destroying my ability to form coherent thought i'm going to go eat some candy and cry. also i'm aware this proposal is like the extrapolated version of person a yelling and person b yelling and person a screaming IT'S BECAUSE I LOVE YOU but like listen... i like cheesy stuff SO.


	28. the honeymoon before the wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** a strip tease and two blow jobs nice

Ulquiorra notices the faint glitter curled around his finger in the middle of brushing his teeth, the lights above their bathroom mirror catching on the diamond just right to catch his attention.

His heart jumps up into his throat at the sight and he holds his hand out in front of him, studying the ring silently for a moment before the conversation from last night washes over him again. When Grimmjow had refused to answer any of his messages, he was sure Grimmjow was angry with him, but the argument they had was far beyond what Ulquiorra expected from him. Just evidence he made a major mistake. When he fell asleep, he was just grateful Grimmjow had forgiven him, content in the belief that Grimmjow truly never wanted to leave his side.

Of course he said he would marry Grimmjow; the thought of them remaining with one another for the rest of their lives had been cemented in his mind for so long that the fact he never made the logical leap to marriage stuns him the more he thinks about it. But as he studies the ring on his finger, he realizes just how serious Grimmjow was when he said he thought about it.

How long ago was this ring purchased? When did he decide to take their relationship to the next level, and how long was he going to wait to say something about it?

“Quiorra, breakfast is on the table.” Grimmjow steps into the bathroom with him, freezing just on the edge of the mirror; Ulquiorra can see the curve of his nose, the bright shock of his blue hair. “Oh, I see you found that. I told you I’ve been thinking about it.”

Spitting out the toothpaste foam in his mouth and quickly wiping his mouth clean, Ulquiorra turns to look up at him, not sure what to say. In the wake of last night, he wishes there was something he  _ could _ say. “When did you decide to buy it?”

“Before Las Noches. Way before. I’ve had it maybe a year or so now.” Grimmjow’s shoulders jump up in a small shrug and the smile he gives Ulquiorra is a crooked one. “I thought I’d get around to asking you around your birthday, or Christmas. Then New Year’s. Maybe Valentine’s Day or White Day. You can kind of see where I’m going with this.”

The thought is oddly sweet, that Grimmjow kept shying away from it. Ulquiorra understands that in more ways than one. “It’s a beautiful ring, Grimmjow. Thank you so much.”

“I would have given it to you last night if I thought about it, but. Better late than never, right?” Grimmjow takes his hand, presses a kiss over the ring. “I can’t believe you said yes. I keep thinking about it over and over, that you really said yes. I fucking… Wasted all this time trying to find the right moment to ask you and we just did it after we had sex.”

Laughing, Ulquiorra pushes himself up on his toes and gives Grimmjow a brief kiss. “But it was right for us. I just… We’re okay, right? Everything is okay between us again.”

“Yes.” Grimmjow kisses him back, firmly. “I’ve forgiven you. Everything is perfect between us.”

Ulquiorra’s heart flutters at the reassurance and he flips off the bathroom lights, letting Grimmjow lead him downstairs to where breakfast is waiting. The pancakes on the table make his stomach growl in appreciation even though he knows they  _ must _ be made with protein powder because he knows how Grimmjow cooks. It’s been a rough few days, though, so maybe something on the healthy side is exactly what he needs to start feeling more himself again.

“It smells amazing,” he says, all but knocking his chair over in his haste to sit down. “Thank you for cooking. If I was thinking, I could have set my alarm to get up and do it.”

Grimmjow hesitates before he sits down, scooting his chair over so they’re as close as they can possibly be. “You did. I woke up just before it went off and shut it off so you could sleep. I feel bad about keeping you up last night after the weekend, and you made me dinner. So I got up early to make you breakfast so I could say sorry officially. That’s okay, right?”

One of these days, Ulquiorra’s heart is going to skip enough beats to kill him. “It is. Thank you. Of course you’re forgiven. We’re just going to communicate better now, right?”

“Of course. Which reminds me, we should tell the others about the engagement. No, wait, we shouldn’t.” Grimmjow’s eyebrows dart up, a playful smile stretching across his face as he cuts into his pancakes. “How about we just wait to see how long it takes them to see the ring?”

The question makes Ulquiorra still. “Was it okay to make this decision without them?”

“I think the kid thing was something we definitely had to talk about, but I’m not gonna budge on this whatsoever,” Grimmjow says, and his voice is lower, softer. “Sosuke and Byakuya are married, aren’t they? I’ve been with you longer. If I want to marry you, I shouldn’t have to ask for their permission. If they have a problem with it, well, pot meet kettle.”

Warmth overflows in Ulquiorra’s stomach and he does this best to eat with just the one hand, the other resting atop Grimmjow’s as they eat together in peaceful silence. He’s missed this, calm and quiet mornings they can share before Grimmjow goes off to work; he’s already thinking about their plans this evening. Maybe he should make an effort to make something healthy but indulgent for dinner, something they can enjoy together before Grimmjow… Well, he can save thinking about that for later. If he doesn’t, he won’t get anything done.

“So when are you going to tell Zommari about Starrk?” he asks as they clean up the table.

Predictably, Grimmjow groans and drops his head, all petulance that makes Ulquiorra chuckle under his breath. “I told him I’d let him know by Wednesday but I might as well just come out and fucking say it. We all know I have to do it one way or another.”

“Charge him double for the queerbaiting,” Ulquiorra suggests, and Grimmjow cackles.

“What are you going to occupy your day with, my beautiful fiance?” The way Grimmjow’s face lights up with the word has Ulquiorra’s heart thumping harder against his ribs, his own face suffused with heat. “God, that feels so fucking good to say out loud.”

“It feels pretty great to be, you know.” Ulquiorra leans up so he can wrap his hands around the back of Grimmjow’s neck, fingers sliding into the hair at his nape. “I’ve got emails to go through, maybe I’ll have a new job in one of them. If not, I’ll just watch Netflix or maybe take a nap. Paint or draw. I’ve got things that I can occupy my time with if I really need them.”

Grimmjow hums and leans down to kiss him, and he tastes like orange juice and pancakes made with vanilla protein powder, not a bad combination all things considered. “I hope you have the best day. I’ll text you when I’m between clients if you need to talk to me.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra presses his face against Grimmjow’s chest to hide it, feeling the heat in his face just increase. He must be as red as a tomato right now.

“Nah, thank  _ you. _ You’ve made me the happiest fucking man in the world today.” Grimmjow picks him up around the waist and Ulquiorra squeaks when he’s spun around and then sat back down on his feet. “I hope I make you half as happy as you make me.”

_ Oh, as if. _ “You make me even happier than that. I’m going to have to start playing catch-up.”

“You’ve caught up right here.” Grimmjow taps the ring on his finger and Ulquiorra smiles; he’s never going to get used to it, and he thinks Grimmjow isn’t either in the grand scheme of things. That’s okay if they have a honeymoon period before the wedding, right? “I’m going to tell everyone at work as soon as I get there. Oh shit. Can I tell Nelliel?”

“Do you see her this morning?” When Grimmjow nods, Ulquiorra beams at him. “Go ahead. Tell everyone you want to. I don’t see any reason to keep it a secret from anyone.”

Baby blue eyes soften down at him before Grimmjow leans down to kiss him again, but this one is longer and slower, lingering against his lips, their tongues twining softly in the middle until Ulquiorra finds himself melting against Grimmjow’s chest. His fingers curl in the fabric of Grimmjow’s shirt, keeping him close, not that Grimmjow seems in a hurry to get away from the way his arms keep tightening around Ulquiorra, all but crushing him. It’s pleasant, though. They’ve been learning the edge of pain and pleasure well.

“Have a good day, baby.” Grimmjow kisses him on the nose, and Ulquiorra giggles. “I’ll see you when I get home, but I’ll talk to you before then. Stay warm. I love you.”

“I hope work goes by fast and painless,” Ulquiorra says, smoothing out Grimmjow’s shirt before stealing one last kiss. “I love you, too. So much.”

There are two more job offers in his email inbox and Ulquiorra spends half of the day roughly going back and forth with these people while he cleans up around the apartment. He has laundry to do, which is easy enough, and he loads the dishwasher and wipes down the kitchen since he was too anxious to do it all last night. Since his art supplies are starting to look disorganized, where he picks things and throws them back in the heat of the moment, he takes some time to organize them in their drawers, then flips through his collection until he decides on alcohol markers. He has enough blues and skin tones for Grimmjow’s body.

When he finishes with the laundry, he cycles through washing the bedding and the towels just to have something to do, dusts a few odds and ends, and sits down to clean out their Netflix list of the things they’ve already sat down to watch. Maybe he chuckles a little to himself when he gets to delete  _ Los Lobos _ from the list even though he knows they’ll have to add the sequel back in later on down the line. When the apartment feels too quiet, he picks up his earbuds so he can play his music as loud as he wants to without disturbing their neighbor.

Grimmjow texts him between clients and they talk on the phone for a few minutes each time, and it makes Ulquiorra feel ridiculously giddy. A honeymoon phase before the wedding, indeed. Between calls he actually looks up whether this is normal just to be sure even though of  _ course _ someone would be excited to be engaged for the first time. Especially when it came out of literally nowhere and capped off a shitty three days with something positive and beautiful.

He really is going to get help, he decides. Professional help, a proper therapist, any medication he might be prescribed. It doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes, he’s going to do it to get better for the people in his life because they deserve that much from him.

When it gets close to time for Grimmjow to come home, he turns on the stove and ransacks the kitchen for what he needs for dinner, singing along to the rock music playing through his earbuds while he cooks. Ginger rice and miso salmon, and a salad to round it out, something he’s very familiar with. Kana-Boon gives way to Fear, and Loathing in Las Vegas and One Ok Rock. By the time cool air curling around his ankles alerts him to the front door being opened, he’s halfway through a Man with a Mission song near and dear to his heart.

He shuts off the stove and pulls his earbuds out. “How did your work day go?”

Grimmjow doesn’t answer him right away, dropping his bag behind the couch and locking the apartment up behind him, shrugging out of his coat and toeing his boots off. Then he’s suddenly just across the apartment, picking Ulquiorra up in his arms and kissing him furiously.

“I missed you all day,” he says, and Ulquiorra laughs, wrapping his legs around Grimmjow’s trim waist. “It’s like when we first started dating and all I wanted to do was laze around in bed all day with you, but worse probably. Nel says she wants to throw us an engagement party.”

“You two must be pretty good friends, then. That’s really sweet. If she wants to, you should let her.” Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully, pressing a kiss to the side of Grimmjow’s throat.

The soft sigh he receives in return for that makes him feel warm all over, inside and out. “I’ll let her know for real, then. Everyone said congratulations. Tesla asked me why I waited a year to ask you, that traitor. They’re fighting over calling best man now.”

“We’ll worry about those details later.” Ulquiorra really doesn’t want to think about who would be his best man on his side of the altar, anyway. They have time. “For now, I made you dinner. And then you promised me that I could draw you naked, and I’m holding you to that.”

He makes a point to show Grimmjow where his sketchbook and alcohol markers are waiting and Grimmjow beams at him, giving him one last kiss before setting him on his feet. “Making me dinner and from the way everything looks, cleaning the house. Are you gonna be my house husband, then? I wouldn’t object to that if that’s what you wanted.”

“As long as you make lots of money at your job, husband,” Ulquiorra choruses, grinning when Grimmjow sputters, his face suffused with a bright pink that compliments his hair.

“You really didn’t have to go through the trouble of making dinner but I appreciate that you did.” Grimmjow hooks a finger beneath his chin and leans down to kiss him again, one that lingers against his lips and makes Ulquiorra shiver, his fingers curling around Grimmjow’s upper arms as he leans up into it. “I’ll show you just how much I appreciate that later. But you’re right, I did promise to model nude for you. Have you thought about the photograph thing?”

Ulquiorra blinks up at him as Grimmjow opens the refrigerator, getting them both something to drink. A soda for Ulquiorra because he knows better and a beer for himself. “Wait, were you serious about that? About you photographing me naked? I thought it was a joke.”

“No, I was serious. I did some photography in college. It was the only thing I really enjoyed which is, y’know, part of the reason I quit.” Grimmjow shrugs, not quite meeting his eyes, and Ulquiorra realizes he’s shy about asking in the first place. That’s something to think about.

“You still have your camera?” When Grimmjow nods, Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t see why not if you really want to. I’ve never let someone photograph me before.”

Bright blue eyes meet his own as if making sure he’s being serious before Grimmjow’s smile widens into a smirk. “Believe me, I’ll make it a pleasurable experience for you. And the pictures won’t leave the two of us. They print digitally, so no one else will see them.”

“You keeping this fancy camera of yours hidden wherever you kept this?” Ulquiorra asks, lifting his hand, displaying the ring still glittering on his finger. He’s never taking it off again.

“Actually, yeah. It was underneath the camera in the bag because I had just enough room for it. I figured if you ever found the camera, you’d just ask me what it was and not dig around in the bag since you’ve never been much of a snoop.” Grimmjow sits down at the table and after a beat, Ulquiorra sits down as well, glad he timed their dinner so well so that it’s still hot and filling the air with its fragrance. “You like it? I got it sized to fit your fingers.”

Ulquiorra nods, brushing the pad of a finger over the diamond once more. “I love it. I never gave much thought to what I’d want in an engagement ring because I never thought I’d be the one wearing it, but this is really beautiful. You did a great job picking it out.”

“I’m glad. I didn’t know what I was doing, really. The poor shop assistant asked me if I was okay because I was halfway to panic.” Grimmjow laughs at the memory, then digs into his food.

The way he moans around his bites of food makes Ulquiorra’s stomach feel hot even as he giggles, covering his mouth with one hand to try to muffle the noises as much as possible. When the two of them moved in together, they both picked up cooking in an effort to try to impress each other, and they’ve had pretty fantastic success all things considered. Ulquiorra doesn’t live off of instant ramen cups and soups and Grimmjow doesn’t have to worry about going through with cooking three meals a day all on his own.

“I told Zommari I’d work with Starrk,” Grimmjow says when Ulquiorra is about halfway through his plate. “He’s glad, of course. He knew I was going to say yes. So I gotta meet with him on Friday and sit down and talk what his limits are and what we gotta do to get him to the shape he needs to be in for this role. Apparently he’s gonna be half-naked a whole lot.”

Humming, Ulquiorra spears another piece of fish, the salmon so tender it falls apart at the gentlest prodding. “Then we’ll definitely have to make time to watch this film.”

“You’re the worst. But yeah, we’ll have to watch it. I hate to admit it, but I  _ have _ to know how they’re making a sequel out of a movie that had a satisfying conclusion.” Grimmjow rolls his eyes and Ulquiorra shakes his head at the sight.

“I’m surprised you never went into a career of film criticism,” he muses thoughtfully.

Grimmjow almost chokes on the drink of beer he takes. “Can you even imagine that? I don’t have thoughtful reasons for hating shit. It’d just be like…  _ He should have kissed his co-star because this chick he’s been stupid over this entire film doesn’t even look like she enjoys hugging him _ and then I get a thousand hate comments and someone doxxes me.”

Ulquiorra bursts into laughter hard enough that his ribs hurt, and Grimmjow just stares at him from his side of the table before he laughs, too, running a hand over his face. They finish dinner discussing more of Grimmjow’s plans, what it entails to get someone who’s been sick off the ground in terms of working out, and after they clean up the kitchen, they retire to the living room where Ulquiorra vacuumed the couch specifically because that’s where he wants to pose Grimmjow. At least, for this first picture. Maybe the bed if he does a second one.

“You ready for me to take my clothes off?” Grimmjow asks, watching Ulquiorra carry his sketchbook and all of his markers into the living room. He has so many. He needs more.

“Yeah, you can go ahead and get undressed while I get set up,” he says, angling his favorite chair to face the couch, dragging the coffee table over so he can arrange his markers on them and reach for them as needed while he draws.

Across the room, Grimmjow strips out of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in an exaggerated and slow motion that distracts Ulquiorra from organizing his markers. Every inch of him is honed muscle, his abs hard and his pecs noticeable no matter what shirt he wears, his biceps never quite small enough not to risk stretching the sleeves of anything he wears. Broad shoulders into a slim waist, the most ideal body that most men chased after their entire lives without ever having the dedication and fortitude to get there. But Grimmjow has.

A thin trail of pale blue leads from his navel down below the top of his jeans. “You good?”

“I’m admiring my model,” Ulquiorra says without a moment’s hesitation.

“Well, I’m always glad to look good for you.” Grimmjow settles his hands on the waistband of his jeans and now he moves slower, popping the button, pulling the zipper down so that the soft rasping sounds impossibly loud in the stillness between them.

Ulquiorra doesn’t know why it captivates him as much as it does when he’s seen Grimmjow naked a thousand times before, has touched every single inch of his body with his fingers and mouth at least once. But he finds himself watching just the same, swallowing around the dryness in his throat as Grimmjow shimmies out of his jeans. He has to push them down past his thighs, as broad as they are, and then they puddle at his feet.

There’s nothing underneath them. Ulquiorra opens his mouth and nothing comes out.

“Since you wanted to draw me naked, I just didn’t even bother with underwear after I got out of the shower at work.” Grimmjow smirks at his reaction, then drapes himself over the couch, tucking a pillow under his head. “Feel free to pose me however you want to.”

After Ulquiorra has successfully flipped the switches in his brain back on that allow him to think intelligently, he walks over and leans down, his face warm while he poses Grimmjow’s limbs to his own satisfaction. It doesn’t help that Grimmjow stares directly up at him, like he’s trying to make Ulquiorra look at him. At this point, if he does, he won’t even remember why his fiance was naked on the couch in the first place, art supplies forgotten.

“Is that comfortable?” he asks, leaning back to look Grimmjow’s body over.

Grimmjow nods, his eyelids fluttering shut. “Yeah, baby. I’m good. You can start if you want.”

This particular chair is Ulquiorra’s favorite to sit in, just the right size for him to curl up in without feeling like he has too much room left or too little room to sit how he likes. He perches his sketchbook on his knees and pulls the pencil out of the loops, making a grab for the gummy eraser on the table so he can get to work on the basic sketch. Color comes after.

After the quiet gets awkward ten minutes in, he sets everything aside, retrieves his phone, and docks it on the small speaker system below the TV so he can play something instrumental and soothing. Something for him to listen to that won’t steal his attention. To his credit, Grimmjow is perfectly still and quiet, but he keeps his gaze fixed on Ulquiorra.

So he draws that in. If Grimmjow is going to look at him, then it’s going in the piece itself.

He only fucks up drawing Grimmjow’s open, obvious look of want three times before he gets it right. Telling himself just to think of the man staring at him as any other person, as one of the models from class; it only makes drawing his dick marginally easier and maybe Ulquiorra’s own cock twitches in interest at the focus of his attention.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Grimmjow asks him, and he bites down on his lower lip.

“Yes,” he admits, and Grimmjow smiles serenely, blinking long, long lashes at him as he returns his face to its former expression. “This is more of a challenge than I considered.”

Grimmjow hums, stretching his neck just a little before settling. “I could get used to having you look at me like that. That expression like you’re trying to memorize every single part of my body. You gonna draw all of us like this, or just me?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead, to be honest. Grimmjow was the first and only person on his mind when it came to this and he half-wonders why that might be. Maybe it was just the last few days coming to a head. “Just you for now. Which should suit you, because I know how you are when it comes to monopolizing attention. Unless you want to share my artistic talent.”

“Nope,” Grimmjow responds. “I want to keep it all to myself.”

Ulquiorra smiles softly and finally satisfied with his drawing, sets his pencil and eraser down, picking up a handful of markers to get to work. The smell more than anything takes him back, alcohol markers always so strongly-scented. It makes him feel like he’s back in that class, sitting at a table in a room full of art students just trying to add to their already loaded classwork without being able to make room for more classes. Only a handful of people were doing it for fun; the others were all people Ulquiorra knew in one art class or another.

He can almost smell the slight dusty scent in the air, the scent of markers and paint and charcoals and graphite. When he manages to splotch his own fingers with color, he hardly notices, too busy building up his transition colors and watching everything come smoothly together as he layers everything together. Watching Grimmjow spill across the page in vivid color until Ulquiorra is finally satisfied he got him right.

When he caps his last marker and turns the sketchbook around, Grimmjow stands up and comes closer to him, taking the book from his hand and straightening up so he can look at it properly. This puts Ulquiorra about eye-level with his dick, unfortunately.

“Holy shit, Quiorra,” he breathes. “You really are something special. It looks so fucking life-like I can’t even wrap my mind around it. And you just sat here and did it.”

Ulquiorra nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I did. I really like alcohol markers.”

“It doesn’t even look like you did it with marker,” Grimmjow murmurs, and Ulquiorra smiles at the thought; alcohol markers go down so smooth and pretty. “Fuck, it really does look like me.”

“Mhm,” Ulquiorra agrees easily. “Can I suck your dick since it’s right in front of my face?”

Grimmjow looks down, then swallows. “Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Go for it, babe. When have I ever turned down a free blowjob from you, anyway?”

Folding his lips carefully over his teeth, Ulquiorra leans forward and takes the head of Grimmjow’s cock in his mouth, enjoying the feel of the velvety glans against his tongue as he closes his eyes. He could do this in his sleep, taking him in centimeter by centimeter just to draw it out, curling his tongue around the hot shaft as it grows harder in his mouth. Grimmjow is wide enough that he has to open his mouth wider than he’d had to for most men but he doesn’t mind, shivering when Grimmjow brushes his hair back off of his forehead.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Grimmjow rasps, and Ulquiorra wants to make a joke about that but his mouth is full and he doesn’t want to come up any time soon. “Your face gets all pink when you give me head. It’s so fucking cute.”

When his nose brushes the short curls at the base of Grimmjow’s cock, Ulquiorra pulls back in one smooth, fluid motion and starts bobbing his head, taking just a little at a time until he’s sure his throat is open enough for it. Grimmjow’s hips sway to the rhythm of his head but he doesn’t try to outright fuck Ulquiorra’s mouth, which is good. He wouldn’t get to come if he did.

His hands smooth up and down Grimmjow’s strong, broad thighs while he sucks and slurps around his cock, feeling the familiar sticky heat of pre-come on his tongue, the slightly sweet taste he’s grown used to. He dares looking up at Grimmjow and shivers all over when he finds those eyes, heavily-lidded and fixed on him, pupils blown wide and dark.

A trickle of drool runs down from the corner of his mouth but Grimmjow wipes it away carefully, groaning when Ulquiorra swallows around him in thanks. “Your mouth feels so good.”

He takes his time with Grimmjow until the slick slide of the cock in his throat feels like just another part of his body, as natural as breathing. When he can feel the muscles in Grimmjow’s thighs twitching and trembling beneath his fingers, he swallows around him, feeling his throat tighten, his eyes shutting once more as he focuses on this, on the two of them. When Grimmjow comes, Ulquiorra swallows, the obscene wet noise that he makes letting go of Grimmjow’s cock echoing off of the walls around them.

Grimmjow drops to his knees, hands pulling Ulquiorra’s pajama pants down his hips. “Let me return the favor,” he says before Ulquiorra can even ask. “You cooked me dinner and drew me pretty art and made me the luckiest man in the world. Let me do this for you.”

“You think I’m going to complain?” Ulquiorra asks, his voice raspy as he runs his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair, grinning when Grimmjow presses up into his touch. “Feel free.”

He’s already half-hard from the drawing and the blowjob but Grimmjow gets him the rest of the way there with long licks up the underside of his shaft, teasing him with just the tip of his tongue until Ulquiorra whines and bucks his hips. Only then does Grimmjow take Ulquiorra’s cock in his mouth, tongue curling around him like he’s candy, something sweet and sticky to lick and suck. Ulquiorra feels warm all over, still in most of his clothes with Grimmjow’s big, warm hands on his hips to protest his bared skin from the cool air in the living room.

Right now, he feels so incredibly lucky to have this man in his life.

The inside of Grimmjow’s mouth is wet and hot around his cock, his throat pulling tight around Ulquiorra’s shaft with every suck and swallow. Unlike Ulquiorra, he keeps his eyes open and trained on Ulquiorra’s face, no doubt watching for his every expression, listening to every little moan and sigh that leaves his lips as he fights his body’s urges to writhe. Just sit still, let Grimmjow take care of him. Watching those full lips grow redder as they rub against his shaft.

When he comes, it’s with a choked little cry, his legs trembling as he sinks into the chair.

“There we go,” Grimmjow says, sitting back on his heels. “How’d that feel?”

“Amazing. You’re amazing.” Ulquiorra reaches for him and Grimmjow is just suddenly on him, his warm and heavy weight a comfort. They stay like that, his hands splayed over Grimmjow’s bare back, until the music is interrupted by one of his new ringtones.

“Since when do you use a Nozarashi ringtone?” Grimmjow asks, lifting his head. “Wait, that’s “Heilig Bogen” so that’s Bazz, isn’t it? You gave him his own ringtone.”

Ulquiorra blinks at the observation. “Yes, I did. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Nah, just thinking it’s cute. I forgot you gave everyone a personalized ringtone.” Grimmjow kisses him on the forehead and retrieves his phone for him, sitting on the arm of the chair while he tucks himself back into his pants and answers the phone call.

_ “Quiorra!” _ Bazz doesn’t give him a second to speak.  _ “Ken’s out of the city so Yumichika and I are gonna do something wild. You and Grimm want to join us?” _

“Unbelievable that you’ve made friends with him,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra smacks at him to tell him to hush so he can hear properly, earning a grin in return.

“What… What wild thing are you going to do?” Ulquiorra asks. Surely something that Zaraki is going to make them pay for in more ways than one—  _ Oh no. _ “Bazz, wait—”

_ “I figure you two have been to Las Noches before so like, you should meet us there tonight and we can all have some fun. Like in an hour. I think that’s enough time with the roads where you live.” _ Bazz’s voice trails off and Ulquiorra imagines him talking to Yumichika.

Damn it. “Maybe you should reconsider going there. You know how Byakuya feels about—”

Bazz cuts him off again.  _ “Yeah, yeah, but I literally don’t care though? Neither does Yumi. We wanna have some fun. Ken’s the only reason we couldn’t really go but he’s not around so!” _

“We should go,” Grimmjow says. “Even if it’s just for damage control. Hey, you can show him the ring, right? You guys are friends so he’s probably gonna be excited to see it.”

Ulquiorra huffs, caught between a rock and a hard place. “Okay, Bazz. We’ll meet you there.”

_ “Nice! Wear something hot, both of you.” _ Bazz hangs up, and Ulquiorra groans loudly.

“Well,” Grimmjow says slowly, “I’m technically dressed for Las Noches like this.”

“No! Go put something on. Of course something has to happen.” Ulquiorra runs his hands through his hair, wondering who he should call. Who he should tell. There’s no way to stop two grown adults from showing up, but they have to minimize damage control, right? “I’m going to call Sosuke while I get dressed. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

Grimmjow nods, standing and stretching. “He said to wear something hot. Is it totally egotistical of me to think that Bazz is like, into us? Or did he mean it in a general sense?”

“I don’t know.” Ulquiorra dials frantically as he hurries up the stairs; might as well dress in  _ something _ appropriate if he’s going at all. “Come on, we have an hour to get ready and meet them there. Sosuke, you have to pick up the phone. Where are you?”

Grimmjow is right behind him. “They aren’t at the hospital, are they?”

Shit. He didn’t think of that, but when Aizen’s phone goes to voicemail, it seems like the most likely option. Ulquiorra doesn’t bother leaving one. “Okay, new plan. We can try to meet up with Halibel and maybe she can help us minimize the damage. Sound like a plan?”

When he turns around, Grimmjow sweeps him off of his feet and kisses him, quieting him instantly. “Calm down for me. It’s not big deal. We can handle this. Let me pick out what you wear, though, because if we’re going to go at all…”

Ulquiorra doesn’t bother to remind him that they have  _ limited time _ to get ready and ends up walking out of the house in Grimmjow’s long coat to cover up the fact he isn’t wearing anything on his legs, refusing to so much as take a step out of the apartment and into the garage until Grimmjow promises the car is warm. He almost regrets doing it anyway until he gets in the car and one of Grimmjow’s hands slips under the coat, palming the bare skin of his thigh.

_ Oh. _ Ulquiorra stares straight ahead, ignoring the heat in his face.

“It’s going to be okay,” Grimmjow assures him, giving his thigh a squeeze that startles a sound from his throat. “You know I just blew you before we left but I think you’re already getting wound up again. Just from my hand on you? That’s pretty good.”

“You’re the worst,” Ulquiorra tells him. “I love you. Now please watch the road.”

“I am, I am,” Grimmjow choruses, but his hand stays right where it is, squeezing Ulquiorra’s leg at red lights until his face feels like it’s on fire by the time they make it to Las Noches.

The same car from Giselle’s restaurant is already parked.  _ Fuck. _

Bazz and Yumichika got here first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohohoho trouble is coming


	29. sleepovers aren't supposed to end in tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** conversations about death
> 
> **sexual content:** none

Working with the CPS agent assigned to Rukia has not been an easy task and Aizen is sure that by the time all is said and done, he will be thrilled to never have to see the man again. But just for tonight he can be thankful for that wretched man; Byakuya’s face is oddly peaceful, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror so she can see Rukia asleep in the booster seat they picked up before coming to the hospital to pick her up and bring her home.  _ Just for tonight, _ had been the strict warning. Just to see how Rukia could handle a night and morning in the house.

Hisana’s condition seems to worsen dramatically each and every day, or so it seems to Aizen; her face is paler every time they visit her, the light in her eyes fading slowly but steadily. All that seems to remain of her is the love she has for her little sister and her determination that Rukia ends up in a home where she will be raised with all of the love and care a child her age could ever want. If he could, Aizen would get down on bended knee and swear to her that he and Byakuya would never allow anything to befall her sister, but right now, it’s not possible.

Though a neighbor has been watching Rukia each evening and Byakuya has faithfully ferried her between the hospital and the neighbor’s apartment, the woman needed some time to herself. Not that Aizen can blame her; she has two children of her own and can scarcely imagine how hard it must be to take care of a third on top of that. But the opportunity allowed them to bring Rukia home with them so she didn’t have to stay at the hospital.

The thought of leaving her there, of all places, makes him physically ill. He knows why Byakuya has no choice during the day. When Hisana is awake, Rukia wants to be with her and either naps or does some small and quiet activity when Hisana sleeps. She knows her sister is close to dying but wants to spend as much time with her as she can just the same.

There may come a day where she’s asleep when her sister’s heart monitor flatlines, though. Aizen doesn’t want to think about her being shaken awake and removed from the room by a nurse, probably screaming out her sister’s name as she’s carried out of the room.

“She looks so peaceful when she’s asleep,” Byakuya murmurs, and the fondness in his voice is impossible to ignore. “She always looks so sad when I come to pick her up and the entire time we’re with her, but at least she looks like she’s getting a break when she’s asleep.”

Aizen nods, glancing back at her at a red light. “Maybe she’ll find some peace when she comes to stay with us. You told Renji he wasn’t to come over while this is going on, correct?”

“Yes. He’s to stay away and we’re staying in to watch over her.” Byakuya sighs softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m so worried. I want her to like our house but I also think she’s going to be too exhausted over all of this to process it. This has been such a long journey for her.”

Since the light is still red, Aizen lets one hand drop from the steering wheel, taking Byakuya’s hand in his own and squeezing it gently. “Everything is going to be just fine. It’s hard right now, but we’re going to give her the home she needs and all the tools she needs to recover.”

“Are we sure your boys aren’t going to show up to the house tonight?” Byakuya asks.

“Ulquiorra always texts or calls to ask if they can come over when they want to, and I haven’t gotten anything from him. He’s not a surprise kind of person,” Aizen says reassuringly. “So no, that won’t be happening. Let’s get our little girl home and see if we can get her to eat.”

Byakuya nods, leaning back in his seat, and though he’s obviously excited to have Rukia properly visiting him, there’s no ignoring how tired he looks. “I hope she will for us. She doesn’t like the hospital food very much, and I can’t blame her. But it means she doesn’t eat it.”

“Maybe we can arrange to just bring her food ourselves while she stays there.” Aizen doesn’t mention that it’s probably morbid to let her stay there for so long at a time.

“If she was staying with us while this was going on, we could just feed her ourselves, but we don’t have that privilege.” The bitterness in Byakuya’s voice is real. “The moment CPS got involved, it complicated everything. I know they have jobs to do. I still hate it.”

Aizen nods in sympathy. “I understand, Byakuya. You know I do. I don’t like the way they look at us or talk about us either, but we have to do this for her. If we get this all out of the way now, then we never have to deal with it again. You know we can take care of her.”

“Of course I do. Hisana knows that, too. She trusts us with her sister but we still have to go through all manner of paperwork, and I just…” Byakuya shakes his head. “The light is green.”

“So it is.” Aizen shifts his foot onto the gas pedal. “But breathe through it, my darling. You know when it’s all over, it’ll be over for good. We won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“We better not,” Byakuya mutters. “I don’t want to go through this after Hisana passes away.”

It probably wouldn’t be any good for Rukia if they had to, to be perfectly honest.

The ride the rest of the way home is quiet so that Rukia can sleep and when Aizen parks the car in the driveway, Byakuya is out of his seat in seconds to collect her from the back. As soon as he straightens up with her in his arms, Rukia blinks awake, large violet eyes surveying their property for a long moment with a dazed expression like she hasn’t quite figured out where she is yet. But she wraps her arms around Byakuya’s neck like an anchor and looks up at him and yawns, and Aizen can see the moment Byakuya’s heart expands in his chest.

“Hello, sweetie,” he murmurs, brushing her soft black hair out of her eyes. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay.” Rukia makes a noise and turns around. “Where did Kon go?”

Aizen checks the backseat and picks the stuffed lion up from where he probably slipped onto the floor when Rukia’s sleep-weakened grip could no longer hold him up. “Here he is. I think he was going on an adventure to see what he could find in the car.”

“Silly,” Rukia chastises him, holding the lion up so she can give him a stern look.

“You know how boy lions can be. Always getting into trouble and looking for things that they shouldn’t be,” Aizen quips. “Don’t you agree he’s silly, Byakuya?”

“Very silly,” Byakuya agrees, pressing a kiss to Rukia’s hair. “Have you ever seen this house before? Did nee-san show you? She told me she showed you lots of pictures.”

Rukia looks up at the house with a puzzled expression on her face before her eyes widen and she nods, looking up at Byakuya and pointing toward their home. “This is your house!”

“Very good!” Byakuya rewards her with a forehead kiss, hoisting her up higher in his arms. “Sosuke is going to get your bag and you’re going to spend the night here with us, and I’ll take you to see nee-san in the morning just like I always have. How does that sound?”

“Like a sleepover?” Rukia asks, squealing when Byakuya nods. “Okay, okay! I’ve only gotten to have a sleepover with the same two people this whole time.”

Byakuya’s smile twitches just slightly but he catches himself and nods, laughing at little at her petulant tone. “Of course, that’s true. You’ve told me about that. Well, for tonight it’s just you and us. Maybe later, we can invite another little girl around your age.”

Predictably, Rukia’s face lights up. “Who is she? What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Her name is Yachiru,” Byakuya says, moving toward the house. “And she’s a little devil.”

Aizen picks up her little backpack; the neighbor who watches her was very helpful in packing her something to wear to bed here and a change of clothing for the morning, as well as a few of her things if she doesn’t want to go straight to bed. While they both have work in the morning and early evenings are important for children her age, Aizen and Byakuya already discussed it on the ride to the hospital; neither of them were going to make her go to bed. She has restless dreams when she just naps at her sister’s bedside.

They purposefully left all of the lights on so that the space would be well-lit the first moment she walked through the door, and Rukia’s eyes widen with wonder as she looks around just the living room. “It’s so big. It’s the biggest house I’ve ever been in, Byakun.”

The fact she uses the name nickname for his husband that Yachiru does makes Aizen smile, though he tries to hide it as he sweeps past them to set her bag on the couch. “Rukia my darling angel, would you like dinner? I can make you whatever you want.”

“Yes please!” Rukia is so patient as Byakuya helps her out of her jacket and her boots, hanging the former up on the rack and setting the latter on the mat beside the door. She holds Kon tight to her chest as she looks around the living room, seemingly intimidated by its size. “Will you make me chicken noodle soup since it’s so cold outside?”

“Of course I will. Show her our wedding pictures, Byakuya,” Aizen murmurs, and his husband nods, taking Rukia by the hand and leading her over to one of the walls.

In the kitchen, Aizen can think with his head on just a little straighter. Having her in the house for the first time has him all kinds of nervous but it’s pleasant almost because he knows they can do this, that Rukia is going to have a good experience with them because he refuses to let anything different be true. Chicken noodle soup is easy; he has ingredients lined up on the counter when Byakuya finally walks into the kitchen to join him, Rukia in his arms once more. She has one arm around his neck, the other holding her lion companion tight to her chest.

“Where did you get Kon from?” Aizen asks her for lack of something better to say, turning on the stove and retrieving one of the knives from the case they have on the counter.

Safely out of reach of curious children, of course. No need to tempt Yachiru, especially.

“Nee-san got him for me,” Rukia says, and Aizen could have guessed that one if he really thought about it, but he can tell that lion means a lot to her. Now he knows why. “I was three.”

“And you’re almost five now. So how many years have you had Kon?” Byakuya asks her.

“Two years in January,” Rukia says promptly, beaming up at him.

Aizen ignores the way his heart trips at the way they look at each other, focusing on cutting the chicken and making sure it stays far away from everything else. “You’re very smart, Rukia. Ah, but he has a small tear on his arm. Would you like me to fix that?”

“You don’t have to do everything, Sosuke,” Byakuya reminds him, but Aizen ignores him and fixes his gaze patiently on Rukia, watching her look at the spot worriedly.

“It was an accident,” she says, and sounds incredibly sad. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Byakuya kisses the top of her head, tightening his arms around her as he rubs his hand up and down her back. “Accidents happen. Sosuke can mend him, though.”

“I can while you eat,” Aizen agrees easily. “It’s a very simple operation and you won’t even know anything was ever wrong. And if you want, since Byakuya promised nee-san he’d give you a bath, I can give Kon a bath. So both of you will be nice and clean for bed.”

Predictably, Rukia’s face lights up and she nods. “Thank you, So-nii!”

She really is a darling little girl. He only hopes she doesn’t lose too much of that light in her eyes when Hisana actually does pass away and Rukia has to handle what that means.

Byakuya shows her around the house while Aizen cooks, and when everything is in the pot and simmering, he wipes down the counters and sanitizes the cutting board even before he adds it to the dishwasher. By the time his husband returns with their soon-to-be daughter in tow, Aizen has set the table and found the sewing kit he keeps in the kitchen. There are small ones secreted away all over the house so one is always near in case of an emergency, such as repairing a small girl’s beloved animal friend.

“Let me see,” Aizen says as he sits down at the table; Byakuya moves to dish up the food while Rukia sits at the table and hands Kon to him. “Ah, this is nothing at all. I can fix this.”

Rukia gazes up at him in wonder. “You really can? Are you sure it’s not too hard?”

“It’s not too hard at all, my little love. This is very easy.” Aizen threads the needle with practiced ease and picks up the scissors, snipping away a little loose thread before he starts working on sewing up the tear. It’s just a small seam tear, nothing that anyone couldn’t fix if they tried.

Byakuya convinces Rukia to eat and she croons happily over the food, which makes Aizen smile as he ties off the thread and cuts off the excess strands before he eats himself. The soup is mild comfort food, perfect for chasing away the chill of a winter night, seasoned and cooked to perfection as always. Rukia hums happily to herself as she eats, and she finishes off two bowls on her own which pleases him immensely. When she’s all done and Byakuya has wiped her face and her hands off, Aizen picks Kon up and comes to kneel in front of her.

“Here you are,” he says, taking Kon’s arm carefully between his fingers so he can show her. “All better, just like I said. He was a very good patient for me.”

Rukia raises the lion’s face to her ear, like she’s listening to him, before beaming at Aizen. “He says you were a really good doctor, So-nii. Thank you for fixing him.”

She sways forward on her chair and wraps her arms around his neck, and he closes his eyes as he hugs her back; it just feels  _ right. _ When he and Byakuya discussed children even before certain procedures were performed, they knew they wanted to adopt straight away. Neither of them could bear what it would take to have a child of their own, and there were so many children out there in need of love it was worth dealing with the red tape they would have to cut, the impossible standards they would have to meet to pull it off.

Having Rukia in the house just makes this feel all the more real and Aizen hopes beyond hope that they get to take her in and make her their daughter after all.

“You’re welcome.” Aizen kisses her forehead and then swings her up into her arms; she’s so light and he knows it’s because she’s small, but she almost feels like a doll. “Byakuya, do you want to take her on up to the bathroom now? I’ll get Kon nice and cleaned up.”

“Of course.” Byakuya holds his arms out and Rukia leans into them, and it just feels so perfect. Like it was meant to be. “Tell Kon you’ll see him soon. Sosuke will take good care of him.”

“I know.” Rukia kisses the lion on his face and hands him back to Aizen.

While Byakuya takes her upstairs to wash her, Aizen makes a quick detour to the washroom. Kon goes in a mesh laundry bag after Aizen looks him over and then he pitches him into the washer; he can have it to himself for now with nothing else left to wash. While it might seem neurotic, Aizen had done far too much cleaning today in preparation for Rukia’s visit and he has nothing else to add to the machine to accompany her little lion. Once he’s clean, he goes into the dryer. It’s not for all stuffed animals, but he doesn’t have anything melt-worthy on him.

Byakuya comes downstairs with Rukia dressed in her pajamas and a different shirt on; Aizen tries his best and fails to stop himself from laughing. “Did you get splashed?”

“I did,” Byakuya confirms. “We’re going to watch something until she wants to go to bed.”

“Like a real sleepover!” Rukia confirms, then looks around. “Where’s Kon? Is he okay?”

Aizen nods, taking her small hands in his own. “He’s getting dried and fluffed and warm right now, and when he’s all done I’ll bring him back to you. What would you like to wash?”

The explanation calms her and she bounces in Byakuya’s arms. “Cartoons!”

She seems overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices she has in the children’s section of Netflix but Byakuya helps her pick through them, and when the dryer dings, Aizen retrieves Kon from his laundry bag and delivers him. Rukia squeals at the sight of him and hugs him tight, pressing her face into his soft golden hide and smiling up at him from under her hair.

Aizen mock bows to her until she giggles and then sits back down with her and Byakuya, wrapping his arm around his husband’s shoulders and leaning into his side, glancing down at the little girl curled up content in his lap and holding onto her stuffed animal.

_ It could really be like this, _ Aizen thinks, chuckling to himself when Rukia twists around to tell Byakuya to stop, that she’s found something she wants to watch.  _ We really could have the family we’ve been talking about all this time. _

It really depends on how well she gets on with the other three men in their lives, Aizen knows, but he can’t help but hold out the hope that Rukia is going to complete their family in the truest sense. That Renji will get along with her, that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra will love her and welcome her into their hearts as well. He doesn’t know what happens if that doesn’t occur, where she goes or what the next step is after that, but he knows how important having the choice is.

Aizen had too many friends in university that grew up in households with parents who didn’t love them or seemed to regret bringing them into the world. He knows what kind of life that leads to and the last thing he wants to do is be the cause of that happening for Rukia.

“Byakun?” Rukia’s voice is very small on the third episode of the show they’re watching and when she turns to look up at him, her expression is grave. “Is nee-san going to die?”

The question takes all of the air out of the room; Aizen can feel the blood draining from his face and he takes the remote from Byakuya, pausing the show. “What makes you ask that, Ru?”

“Because she’s at the doctor’s but.” Rukia stops and looks down at Kon, and Aizen fights the urge to pull her into his chest and hold her. They have to let her talk her way through this, that much he knows to be important for anyone in a time of loss. “She isn’t getting better.”

Byakuya is quiet for a long moment before he strokes Rukia’s hair. “No, Rukia. Nee-san isn’t getting better. You’re very observant for figuring that out.”

“When she gives me medicine when I’m sick, I get better,” she says, “but she always looks sick. And she can’t go home. She said it might be a really long time. But… She isn’t, is she?”

“No,” Byakuya murmurs, and Aizen closes his eyes. “Nee-san isn’t going home.”

Rukia is quiet for a long moment, staring down at her doll before she hugs him tight to her chest, hunching her small shoulders in. At first, Aizen thinks she’s going to sit there quietly for the rest of the night and then she keens softly, a heartbreaking little cry that arrows between his ribs and splits his heart wide open. Byakuya moves faster, wrapping Rukia up in his arms, turning so that Aizen can hug him, keeping her warm and safe between them while she cries.

“It’s not fair!” She looks at Byakuya with pleading eyes. “Nee-san works hard! She tries hard! She didn’t mean to get sick. Medicine costs a lot of money!”

The fact she knows this at such a young age only makes Aizen ache more. “It’s not fair, Rukia, you’re right. Your nee-san did her very best to take care of you and she did a very good job. And she loves you very much. But sometimes… Bad things happen sometimes, anyway.”

Rukia sniffles pitifully and clutches Kon tighter. “I know,” she says, and the knowledge in her voice makes Aizen’s eyes sting. “But it’s not fair. She’s nee-san! She can’t go.”

“I know how you feel, Rukia. I don’t want anything to happen to your sister, either. She’s a very good friend of mine.” Byakuya wipes the tears off of her cheeks and Aizen can see the raw pain in his eyes, how he’s doing his best to hold it together for her. Aizen only briefly remembers Hisana from college; he doesn’t have Byakuya’s connection to her. “But sometimes someone we love has to go away earlier than we want them to. And I know it hurts, baby, I know it must be hurting so much inside. But Hisana just wants what’s best for you. She always has.”

Abandoning Kon to the next of blankets beneath them, Rukia launches herself into Byakuya’s chest and wails, the piercing cries almost too much for Aizen to handle on top of everything else. Byakuya’s eyes widen in alarm but he holds her tight, and Aizen gives them a moment together before he moves in again, pressing his cheek against Rukia’s hair, whispering to her while she cries out the pain and fear she’s no doubt been feeling for months now.

She’s been watching her sister waste away in a hospital bed, and she knows it.

Byakuya hums to her, and Aizen presses his forehead against Byakuya’s, the best he can do right now.  _ We can do this together. We have to be able to do this for her. _

When Hisana does eventually pass away, it’s bound to be much worse than this is now.

Rukia, being a child, cries herself to sleep on Byakuya’s shoulder, and the sight of her small face red and wet with tears is hard to stomach. Aizen pats her cheeks dry with a tissue and sighs softly, wrapping her up in the blanket she’s been keeping around her shoulders, tucking Kon into her arms. Even in her sleep, she hugs him the best she can.

“I should have known she was going to ask us eventually if we knew what was wrong with Hisana,” Byakuya murmurs, looking down at her. “She’s a smart child, always has been. Hisana was, too. Rukia has always been smarter than anyone gives her credit for.”

Aizen studies Byakuya’s face, his ashen features and the pain in his eyes. “I know you’ve been holding it together the best you can because of Rukia, but how are you feeling about all of this? I know you and Hisana were close before I met you. You were friends even then.”

“We are. She’s a wonderful person. It’s hard to see something so awful, so  _ unfair _ happen to her when she did nothing but what she thought was right for Rukia.” Tenderly, Byakuya brushes the stray hairs off of Rukia’s forehead and heaves a sigh. “I’m so worried for her. Hisana is the only parental figure she’s ever really known. Her parents didn’t plan on her birth but they didn’t believe in abortion, either. They wanted to give her up for adoption. Hisana wanted her.”

Though Byakuya has mentioned before that Hisana and Rukia were estranged from the rest of their family, Aizen never asked why. He doesn’t know Hisana well enough and she’s Byakuya’s friend, so the last thing he wants to do is ask an insensitive question and upset his husband. “Did they disown her after she took in Rukia? That’s… One of the coldest things I’ve heard.”

“She had to give up university to take care of her and her mother never forgave her for that.” Byakuya looks down at Rukia and when he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. “But I understand. Hisana couldn’t let her go when she first saw her.”

Aizen reaches out to touch Byakuya’s cheek, leaning over to kiss him softly. “Please don’t cry. No matter what it takes, even if we can’t keep her, you won’t be letting her go.”

“I know we have to wait for Ulquiorra to meet her himself before we have a proper answer, but it’s so hard when she’s right here in my arms.” Byakuya runs his hand down Rukia’s face when she shifts in her sleep, humming softly to her until she settles back down.

“We prepared the guest room for her but I don’t think we should use it. She can just share our bed tonight. Would be better if she woke up,” Aizen says, turning off the television.

“Thank you,” Byakuya whispers, and Aizen pretends he didn’t hear that, watching his husband pick Rukia up, blanket and Kon and all, and carry her toward the stairs.

Aizen straightens up the living room, taking his time refolding the blankets to drape across the appropriate furniture and fluffing up the pillows on the couch. The chicken noodle soup goes into the refrigerator and then he leans his head against the cool stainless steel of the refrigerator, his eyes falling closed. Byakuya was right; it’s hard to wait for an answer when he’d seen for himself that Rukia needs people she knows, people who know her. Not some strangers.

It’s only when he pushes away from the fridge that he realizes his phone is ringing, but by the time he makes it to the counter to check it, the call has stopped. A quick glance at the screen reveals Ulquiorra’s name, but no voicemail. It must not have been very important, then.

He hesitates around the phone for just a moment longer to see if Ulquiorra is going to call him back or text him, and then he checks his voicemail for good measure just the same. Nothing. So maybe an accidental dial, then; he shuts the phone off and puts it on his charger, not in the mood to deal with emergencies tonight. They need to stay here with Rukia no matter what happens, so everyone else in their lives are just going to have to deal.

When he reaches the bedroom, Byakuya has turned on the bedside light on his side of the bed, stretched out on his side with Rukia asleep next to him, his arm wrapped protectively around her. “Hi. You took a long time coming up here, didn’t you? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” Aizen reassures him as he changes into something to sleep in. A full pajama set, since Rukia is sharing the bed with them. “How’s she been doing? Fussy?”

“Just a few times, but she’s been calm otherwise. I think she’ll be okay getting through the night.” Byakuya curls around her just a little tighter, trying to fold himself up as small as he can for her, trying to protect her from things he can’t just reach into her mind and take away. “I’m sorry ahead of time if she wakes you up. I know we both have work.”

Aizen shakes his head, lowering himself down onto the mattress, just looking at the two of them for a long moment. “I don’t mind. It’s all part of having a child, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Byakuya agrees. “Come lie down with us. It’s been a long day for all three of us.”

It’s hard not to think of it as going to bed with his husband and daughter; Aizen swings his legs up onto the bed and gets under the comforter, resting his arm just beneath Byakuya’s so Rukia has both of them close to her. Just in case she wakes up with a nightmare at some point and needs their closeness and comfort. He kisses the top of her head and the slight furrow between her small brows smoothes out, much to his relief.

He shuts off the light; Byakuya’s fingers curl around his arm, holding onto him tight.

This is what he wants. Whatever it takes to make this a reality, Aizen will do it. He wants this with Byakuya, wants to be the father of this child, wants to be the one she runs to when she needs her fears chased away or a shoulder to cry on. He wants to look at her and Byakuya together forever, their dark heads bent close together when they speak.

Whatever it takes, Aizen thinks. He’ll go to any length necessary to make this happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sad about rukia you guys.


	30. playing hide and seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** light bondage, punishment mention, pet play, punishment, face slapping

On a scale of one to ten, the evening takes a sharp eleven when Grimmjow finds out that Bazz and Yumichika have already signed their names into Las Noches’s dungeon guestbook.

“Just no one recognized it was them?” Ulquiorra asks Sung-Sun, who cocks her head at him like she doesn’t quite understand what he’s trying to get at. “Two famous musicians walked through the bar and got all the way to here and no one recognized them. You promise?”

Sung-Sun nods, stretching out a hand to pat him on top of the head. “No worries, Ulquiorra, they were smart enough to disguise themselves. I mean, they’re poor disguises if you get up close and personal with them, but that’s not a concern up here. Downstairs is a different story.”

“Everyone is up close and personal in the dungeon,” Grimmjow mutters, hurriedly adding his name beneath Ulquiorra’s. “If you’ll excuse us, we have to go catch them both.”

“I’ll page Miss Halibel so she can try to help you,” Sung-Sun says, pulling out her phone.

Ulquiorra thanks her and then Grimmjow catches him by the arm, all but dragging him downstairs while his heart threatens to beat its way through his ribs and just kill him outright on the stairs. Even with how careful the Masters and Mistress of Las Noches are with who they let below the ground and who isn’t allowed, having Kenpachi in the bar alone was enough to stir all sorts of shit with the press. The fact of the matter is that Bazz and Yumichika made it downstairs, and the last thing they really need to do is start a scandal this close to a new album launch and a tour. The PR nightmare would be a never-ending torrent of bullshit.

If people complained Byakuya was unprofessional for having a drink with the leader of a band he manages, there’s no telling what people are going to say about this.

“Where do you think they are? How long have they been here?” The questions come out of Grimmjow’s mouth as he takes the stairs two at a time almost fast enough to fall.

“I don’t know!” Ulquiorra almost does trip but Grimmjow catches him and rights him, and doing so makes his hands slide under the coat where Ulquiorra's entire waist is also bare.  _ Shit. Keep your head on straight, you don’t have time for this. _ “If they aren’t on the dungeon floor still…”

All they need is someone here to go to the press and tell them they fucked a member of Nozarashi at a sex club. After the first debacle, it would ring truer than it has any right to.

They have to slow down. They have to think. Grimmjow leans in, pulling Ulquiorra against his chest, using his fiance to stabilize himself. “If they aren’t on the floor, Halibel has keys to all the private rooms so she can look there. But if we interrupt a scene, one of them could drop.”

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow groans but nods because what other choices do they really have? “Let’s go find them. We have limited time.”

Playing at all without any experience means that Bazz and Yumichika wouldn’t be getting in anyone’s pants without a conversation about limits and safewords first, which is about the only thing they can really depend on given they have no real way to know how long these two have been here. Grimmjow takes a deep breath and exhales, scanning the dungeon floor while Ulquiorra quickly hurries across it to look for himself. Having his attention so taken up, he rationalizes, is the only way Gin is able to scare him.

“Grimmjow!” Long arms wind around him from behind and he yelps, stumbling forward and clutching his chest over his rapidly-beating heart. “Oh, now that’s not very nice of you. I know I’m not one of your boyfriends but I thought we were pals.”

“You scared the shit out of me.” Grimmjow narrows his eyes at the fox-faced Dom standing behind him— Or sub for the night, based on the collar around his throat.

“Sorry, sorry.” Gin raises his hands and offers an innocent smile that Grimmjow absolutely does not believe. “Ya look shaken, love. I don’t think lil’ old me could do all that on my own.”

Okay, right, Gin knows Las Noches better than either of them do. “Two men came in here who absolutely should not be in here and we’re trying to find them and get them out.”

Gin’s smile fades immediately. “What kind of men? Abusers or intruders? I need to know.”

“Nozarashi members,” Grimmjow answers, and he sees a flash of pale blue eyes before Gin shakes his head. “I know. I don’t know how they got in without anyone figuring it out, either, but we have to stop them. The scandal could ruin Las Noches and Byakuya.”

“It would. I’ll go find Ran-chan and ask her if she’ll help us.” And with that, Gin is gone.

The dungeon floor turns up no clues; no one seems to have noticed them enter the dungeon that they can remember, which means from a distance the disguises had done just fine. Half of the people here are too busy to notice anyone else; Grimmjow feels almost bad when he sidles up next to Kyoraku to ask him if he noticed anything but it’s not like he’s  _ busy _ considering it’s Kaien’s mouth between his husband’s legs and not his own. No other Doms on the floor noticed anything out of the ordinary, of course, but  _ finally _ one person gives him valuable information.

“Shinji took someone back with him.” Hisagi looks uncomfortable saying it out loud, fidgeting with the leather circle around his throat. “I didn’t recognize the guy. And I wanna say Tosen took someone back, too, but I could be wrong. I’m not usually, though, and his sub was with him already so it was someone new. Which isn’t usual for him.”

Grimmjow runs a hand through his hair. “Great. I can’t exactly just barge into their rooms and demand to know what the hell is going on, though. I don’t have that authority.”

“I do.” The voice is low and smooth and husky and Grimmjow sends a prayer up to whatever higher power is listening to him today when he turns and finds Halibel standing behind him, a ring of keys in hand and… Okay, and Nel on a leash behind her. “Hisagi, watch Nelliel for me. Grimmjow, let’s go find these wayward band members and put a stop to this nonsense.”

“You’re a goddess,” he tells her, and she smiles like she knows it to be the truth.

Having assigned rooms at Las Noches at least means no one has to suffer the indignity of being walked in on when they aren’t doing anything wrong. Halibel walks him straight to Shinji’s room, flipping through her ring of keys before inserting one into the lock. The sight makes Grimmjow choke a little and she glances up at him through her golden lashes, arching one brow at him, obviously goading him to speak up.

“You’re just going to walk right in without knocking?” he asks, and she sighs at him.

“It’s Shinji. Yes, I’m going to walk right in without knocking.” Halibel twists the key, but before she can open the door, Ulquiorra hurries up to them. “Ah, there’s your partner in crime. We have a lead on your wayward companions. One of them should be right in here.”

“Thank God,” Ulquiorra breathes, and Grimmjow nods in agreement. “Thank you, Miss.”

Halibel smiles softly at him. “Very good manners. Now, for the big reveal at long last.”

She pushes the door open and Grimmjow is thrown by how BDSM the room looks, the red and black and grey color scheme, the low lighting making the room look entirely too dark. Without a word, Halibel walks into the room and he and Ulquiorra run into each other trying to get in after her; Ulquiorra steps back to let him through but Grimmjow urges him on because Bazz is his friend and maybe Ulquiorra being here will be at least some kind of comfort.

“You’re interrupting, Miss,” Shinji tells her from where he sits on the bed, a paddle in one hand and a riding crop in the other. “A lot of you are interrupting. What’s going on, exactly?”

With an unimpressed expression on her face, Halibel fists a hand in Shinji’s blond hair and yanks his head to the side. “What  _ is _ going on, Shinji? Are you going to pretend you did nothing wrong, or do you want to be honest and lessen your punishment?”

“Ah, I see. We’ve been discovered, love.” Shinji drops the toys in hand and raises his hands like he might be under arrest, offering Halibel a charming smile.

The other man on the bed— black jeans, black jacket, a black beanie shoved over his head, sighs and pulls the hat off, his usually styled mohawk a magenta fall over one side of his shaved scalp. “Hey, you don’t have to yell at him or anything. This was totally my doing.”

“Shinji is well aware of the risk that comes with allowing certain people into Las Noches and what punishment he might gain from doing such a thing for the sake of his own pleasure.” Halibel narrows her eyes, giving Shinji’s hair another hard yank that half-pulls him off of the bed. “Sub, you are to walk your ass to the dungeon floor and ask Rangiku to dole out your punishment. She is to restrain you against the wall and give you twenty lashes with a flogger, and believe me when I say she’s waiting for you. Move your ass.”

“Apologies, Miss Halibel,” Shinji says, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he rubs his no doubt sore scalp. “I’ll be on my way, then. Sorry for causing such a ruckus.”

“Bazz,” Ulquiorra admonishes, folding his arms over his chest. “We just had that conversation at dinner not that long ago and you’re pulling something like this? Really? For what purpose?”

Of course, Bazz only smirks, raises his hands as if to say  _ do you see this? _ “Why wouldn’t I? Ken doesn’t let us do anything fun like this but hey, we got in without anyone knowing it was us. Shinji wasn’t gonna say a word, he’s a lot more professional than that.”

“Not everyone on the dungeon floor is a professional whose silence can be guaranteed,” Halibel argues. “Let’s find your friend before he does something he ends up regretting by morning.”

Grimmjow shakes his head as Bazz slides off of the bed with slow, languid movements, stretching his arms over his head— before one of them comes to drop around Ulquiorra’s shoulders, the other hand resting on Grimmjow’s. “Since when did we consent for touch?”

“You want me to let go?” Bazz asks, one dark brow raised. Grimmjow doesn’t answer him.

Instead of letting them into the other room— just across the hall, as it turns out— Halibel merely knocks on the door and waits. Shuffling footsteps alert them to someone approaching the door and when it swings in, Grimmjow’s eyebrows fly up in shock. He knows he’s on the taller side of the spectrum, that Kenpachi is even taller than him, but  _ Christ,  _ the guy standing in the doorway is probably taller than Kenpachi. Certainly looks it at any rate. Long dark blond hair is pulled back into a messy bun and the guy is  _ ripped _ but what catches Grimmjow’s eyes are the matching ears clipped into his hair.  _ Holy shit? _

“Sorry to interrupt, pup,” Halibel says in a far more pleasant tone than when she spoke to Shinji, “but we have guests who shouldn’t be here. Do you have one of them with you?”

“Ah, you mean him.” The man steps back, oddly smooth and graceful in his movements, and cocks a thumb at the bed. “Master tied him up before he could cause any trouble.”

_ Him _ turns out to be Yumichika making frustrated noises where he’s been left on the bed with his arms and legs tied up shibari-style, careful and intricate knots. “This isn’t  _ fun. _ ”

“My apologies, Miss Halibel. I thought some time to sit and think about his choice might better influence him.” The voice comes from a Dominant sitting in a chair in the corner, a cup of what is probably tea in hand. A handsome black man with long black braids that show up violet under the lights in the room, wearing all-white so that he matches the room perfectly. “Sajin, come back and sit here with me. Halibel can collect him.”

The man completely ignores the rest of them and returns to sitting on a plush cushion the floor, making a very audible happy noise when the man’s hand comes to rest on top of his head.

“Thank you, Kaname.” Halibel glances back toward them, pausing as she no doubt takes in Grimmjow’s disbelieving expression. “Ah, right. So you haven’t met them yet. Tosen Kaname and his submissive, Komamura Sajin. It’s a pet play-focused relationship though I promise, Komamura-kun doesn’t bite. He’s a good boy, aren’t you?”

Komamura makes a pleased noise at her and Grimmjow blinks a few times at that sound.

“The ropes should be easy enough to untie.” Tosen flexes the fingers of one hand, resting his cup on a saucer on a small table nearby. “I haven’t lost my touch, I don’t think.”

“I’d say you should go back to teaching shibari classes but I remember very well what happened the last time we did that,” Halibel says, venturing over to the bed.

Ulquiorra clears his throat. “What happened the last time? I’m lost.”

“Skill level doesn’t always seem to matter to some of our students here when it comes to physical limitations.” Tosen smiles pleasantly and it’s then that Grimmjow realizes the man’s eyes are closed. Likely permanently, and he winces. “It doesn’t concern me so much what other people say, though. I’m confident in my own abilities.”

“I can’t get  _ loose, _ ” Yumichika whines, as if proving the point.

“You can tie shibari that intricately without being able to see the ropes… That’s amazing,” Ulquiorra murmurs, taking a step closer to inspect the ropes.

Tosen shrugs idly, running his fingers through Sajin’s hair. “You don’t need to see the ropes to know how to tie them. Just touching them is enough for me. Be glad, Yumichika-kun, that I wrapped a silk scarf around your arms before I tied them. You’d have marks to show if I hadn’t.”

When Halibel finally frees Yumichika from the last of the ropework he sits up and pouts, petulantly rubbing the feeling back into his arms. “I thought we were going to do something.”

“You know very well that you shouldn’t be here,” Halibel tells him, and he winces at the tone of her voice. “You either, Bazz. Are you trying to get Byakuya fired? Or get us in trouble? The amount of damage this could do to his career and to Las Noches far eclipses what it would do to yours. In fact, you’d  _ probably _ have a more devoted fanbase among your female fans.”

Bazz clicks his tongue, crosses his arms over his chest and Grimmjow just raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, we got in without being noticed. No one here is going to talk.”

“And if they do? How are you going to stop them?” Halibel demands; Bazz drops his head.

Ulquiorra rounds on him, one hand darting up to fist in the collar of his jacket, yanking him down until their faces are more level. “What are you  _ thinking? _ I know you know better than this.”

“Maybe I wasn’t thinking,” Bazz quips, and then his eyes dart down and Grimmjow definitely is not missing the glitter of interest in his eyes. “So you two listened to what I said on the phone, though? Because I’ve never seen the two of you look better than right now.”

“You got a lot of nerve trying to flirt when you almost got your manager in trouble,” Grimmjow tells him, ignoring the way his stomach jumps at the words.  _ Stop that right now. _

Instead of looking even the slightest bit sorry, Bazz manages a wide smile and his eyes do the same slow crawl up Grimmjow’s body. “Look, y’know, since I’m already here, it’d be a waste of time to just leave, right? You two aren’t going to tell the press I was here, so why don’t—”

“I’m out.” Yumichika’s hand is in Bazz’s jacket pocket and he’s breezing out the door. “They can drop your ass off somewhere, I am going  _ home _ and going to bed.”

“He doesn’t handle rejection well,” Bazz says by way of an explanation.

Tosen clears his throat. “As charming as this evening has been, I’d like to ask for some measure of privacy now so the two of us can enjoy our evening.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. I know I can always count on you.” Halibel shoos them all out into the hallway, her eyes darting between Grimmjow and Ulquiorra as she locks Tosen’s door behind her. “I need to know right now what the three of you are intending to do so I can go check and make sure Shinji’s either gotten his punishment or is at least receiving it. If you’re going to stay, then get in a private room right now and don’t come out without the hat on.”

Bazz cocks his head, looks between them and Grimmjow is telling himself in his most adult voice that sleeping with one of his musical idols is a bad idea. “What do you say? That whole relationship thing of yours is open, right? Gotta be if you’re with a married couple and their boyfriend. Either of you ever slept with a rock star before?”

“You owe us both an apology for dragging us out here with this nonsense drama of yours before anything else,” Ulquiorra snaps, and Grimmjow’s head jerks at the sound of his voice.

His fiance’s hands are curled into fists at this sides, color high along his cheekbones and eyes glittering with ferocity as he stares Bazz down. Viridian eyes meet jade and Bazz finally lowers his head, something like contrition passing across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice pitched low and soft and it  _ does _ things to Grimmjow to hear him talk like that. “You’re right, you two probably had to rush here to try to prevent a crisis that was my fault for causing in the first place. I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset either of you.”

Ulquiorra huffs at him before turning his softening gaze to Grimmjow. “What do you want to do?”

_ Shit, you’re asking me? _ Usually, Grimmjow is the least mature of the two of them and would immediately jump at the idea of getting dicked down by a guy he used to fantasize about and maybe still does when he needs extra jack-off material, but the reality of it? Having sex in Las Noches with Bazzard Black of Nozarashi? It’s all kinds of a bad idea. Byakuya would be furious with them, Aizen would be disappointed, and he can only imagine how much it would end up pissing off Kenpachi to find out they didn’t just send Bazz off home.

All of these things are on Grimmjow’s mind when he opens his mouth. “I mean… He’s your friend. What do you want to do about it?”  _ Because I don’t want to make a decision.” _

“I’m all in favor of a threesome!” Bazz claps his hands together, his spirits obviously renewed. “I’ve got two hands, I can put ‘em to use. You wanna see what kind of stamina a drummer has to have to get the job done? Could be an experience to tell the kids about.”

_ Don’t fucking bring up kids, _ Grimmjow thinks. “Ulquiorra, it’s up to you, babydoll.”

A long moment passes before Ulquiorra squeezes his eyes shut, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I mean… Maybe?” he asks tentatively. “Be quite a way to celebrate the engagement.”

“Engagement? Holy shit!” Bazz grabs him by the wrist and hauls him closer, examining the ring under the harsh white lights set into the ceiling. “Oh man, Grimm, you did a hell of a job picking this out. It’s so pretty, and it’s kinda understated which fits Quiorra pretty damn well.”

There is absolutely no reason for Grimmjow to beam at that; he tells himself to calm the fuck down, ignoring the warmth bubbling in his gut. “Thanks. Only the best for my man.”

“You know what would be a way to celebrate this? Our hands, our mouths, this body.” Bazz’s eyes dart up and down Ulquiorra’s body once more and Grimmjow should probably be jealous, but he isn’t. There’s a distinct pride in the fact that Bazz sees Ulquiorra as desirable when Grimmjow is the one who owns his heart. “Your body, too, it’s all fair game to me.”

Grimmjow looks Ulquiorra in the eye but his fiance looks as lost as he does and for a long, long moment there’s nothing to be said. Then he clears his throat and looks at Bazz; who gives a shit if they end up regretting it? Maybe it’s time to live in the moment a little. “Okay. A threesome to celebrate the engagement. What could be better than that, right?”

“You can trust us not to say anything to the press, Halibel,” Ulquiorra says softly.

“Very well. Here.” Halibel removes a key from the ring and offers it to him. “You can take him back to the room at the end of the hall. It’s reserved for guests and you have to ask nicely to use it, so you should feel honored. Get him out without anyone finding out.”

“We will, Miss,” Grimmjow promises her, and she sighs and brushes past him probably to check to make sure whatever is going on with Shinji is actually happening.

Bazz is all smiles as he sidles up between them. “So, we’re going to do this after all.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea here. This is just for tonight and this is about  _ us, _ not you.” The tone shift in Ulquiorra’s voice sends a shiver down Grimmjow’s spine and he watches Ulquiorra’s spine straighten, his eyes pinning Bazz in place. “You are to do what I tell you to do or this ends before it even begins. Keep that in mind. Do you understand me?”

“You telling me I’m subbing to you?” Bazz asks him, eyes glittering as he leans closer.

“You are,” Ulquiorra confirms and Grimmjow stands rooted to the spot, not sure he can wrap his mind around this one. “Unless you have an objection to make, but I doubt you do. Grimmjow, you’re going to do the same. You both listen to me or you face punishment.”

The thought of bending over Ulquiorra’s knees to receive a spanking only makes Grimmjow’s dick hard, so he’s not sure how that’s going to work. Best to just be on his best behavior and not have to find out the hard way. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,  _ Sir. _ ”

“We’re going to go back to this room and the minute that door closes, you obey me.” Ulquiorra looks so at ease with himself in this role and Grimmjow can’t ignore how turned on it makes him to think of submitting, to giving into Ulquiorra and his whims. “You will undress and kneel on the floor while I decide what to do with you. Bazz, you’ve  _ already _ earned one punishment.”

A sharp intake of air prefaces a small laugh. “I guess that’s fair, Quiorra. I’ll take it gladly if it comes from your hands, though. Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it just for you.”

“That’s  _ Sir _ to you,” Grimmjow corrects him.

Bazz smirks and leans in closer to Ulquiorra. “That’s right. I apologize, Sir.”

“You can apologize as much as you want to but that’s not going to make up for the fact that you’re going to suffer for causing this much trouble.” Ulquiorra’s hand returns to the collar of his jacket, pale fingers twisting in the leather and giving him a hard yank toward the end of the hallway. “Now let’s get this over with. I don’t want to drag it out and risk someone seeing you.”

Dutifully, Bazz follows Ulquiorra and Grimmjow brings up the rear, his palms sweating seemingly uncontrollably as he struggles to wrap his mind around the idea that Ulquiorra has set it up so Grimmjow has a chance to sleep with one of his idols. An engagement present the size of which he never could have conceptualized on his own and his head is spinning at the thought that Bazz might be genuinely into the two of them. That he specifically asked them to dress up.

“You don’t get to touch either of us until I say so.” Ulquiorra shuts the door behind them, nimble fingers twisting the lock, which is their cue to start moving.

Grimmjow is out of his skintight jeans and fishnet top in seconds, folding them over and tossing them on the trunk at the foot of the bed alongside his shoes and socks. When he’s naked, he kneels on the ground, thighs spread and hands resting palm-up on them, his gaze fixed on Ulquiorra. Without the coat on top of him, there’s no hiding just how little Ulquiorra is actually wearing; Grimmjow had picked out a pair of shorts that he used to wear when he worked out at home, the length of which barely covers his ass now. His shirt also used to be one of Grimmjow’s old band shirts until, in a fit of seduction, he cropped it in half to show off.

The effect is startling, all that pale white skin on display against black fabric. Ulquiorra turns and fixes him with a stern gaze that makes him shiver, goosebumps breaking out across his skin as he looks his fiance up and down shamelessly. He wants to get his hands under those clothes.

Bazz takes a moment longer undressing, has to kick off biker boots and deal with his leather jacket, but he drops down gracelessly into the same position. “Just like you asked, Sir.”

“I didn’t ask for your mouth, now, did I?” Ulquiorra storms up to him and Bazz’s eyes widen in shock a half-second before Ulquiorra pulls back his arm and slaps him.

The sound echoes through the room and Grimmjow’s mouth drops open at the sight, a thin wheezing noise leaving his lips at the red hand print visible on Bazz’s cheek. Silence stretches between the three of them for so long that he almost expects Bazz to get up and walk out after that, but instead, he turns and looks up at Ulquiorra with a dark glitter in his eyes.

“You did pay attention to the lyrics, Sir,” he muses before he bows his head properly.

Ulquiorra gives his hand a small shake, and Grimmjow can see a pink tint on his pale palm. “You’re right, sub. I did. You asked me to and I didn’t know why it appealed to you so much until I paid attention to the words. You wrote them and Yumichika sang them.”

Grimmjow’s head spins at the words.  _ What song is he talking about? _

As if sensing his confusion, Ulquiorra turns to look directly at him, stretching out a hand to stroke Grimmjow’s cheek with his warmed palm. “The song I have set as my ringtone has a German translation that’s a hell of a lot more vulgar than the one sold here in Japan. Bazz asked me to listen to it because he’d been sprinkling all kinds of things between the lines.”

“Understood, Sir.” And Grimmjow tries to ignore the way his cock throbs at the thought of Bazz penning his explicit sexual fantasies for millions of people to listen to.

“But he’s not going to get to do anything right now.” Ulquiorra offers his palm and Grimmjow kisses it, taking Ulquiorra’s hand carefully in both of his own and pressing soft kisses to the warmed skin. Shit, he really laid one on Bazz. “He’s going to watch me take you apart seam by seam until he can’t stand it anymore and then he’s going to beg me to touch him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Grimmjow watches Bazz licks his lips. “That seems fair, Sir.”

Ulquiorra moves their clothes over to a chair and opens the trunk, rifling around inside of it before coming up with a pair of thick leather cuffs attached by a metal chain. “Hands behind your back. You aren’t going to touch yourself, either. All you can do is watch us. When I close this lid, you’re going to sit on the trunk and watch. One word, and you’ll go across my knees.”

Bazz sits where he’s told obediently and Grimmjow almost swallows his tongue when he gets an eyeful of the man’s cock, hard and on display, thicker and longer than he would have thought possible even though he’s seen how Bazz’s leather pants fit his lean, muscular legs. “Yes, Sir.”

“Grimmjow.” Ulquiorra holds out a hand and Grimmjow looks up at him, the soft haze of his green eyes and the slight smile that tips up the corners of his mouth. “Come here. Let’s see if we can’t make him break down and beg for us to touch him.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow takes Ulquiorra’s hand and pushes himself up off of the floor, his head spinning as Ulquiorra leads him over to a padded bench against the wall with various places to cuff someone to keep them still. The thought makes Grimmjow hot all through his core and he bites back a moan, but not well enough for Ulquiorra not to notice. “Sir?”

“You know your safewords.” Ulquiorra waits for Grimmjow to nod before continuing. “And you were so keen to explore pain, so let’s explore it together, sub.”

Without another word but with a flurry of excitement and heat coiling tight in his gut, Grimmjow lets Ulquiorra cuff his ankles and wrists so he’s bent over the bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some hot threesome sex next chapter i swear and if you didn't pick up the parallel, grimmjow's in a position parallel to chapter one.


	31. conquering the quiet fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** heavy bdsm, bondage, impact play, flogging, whipping, paddling, spanking, begging, body worship, ass worship, rimming

Ulquiorra runs his fingers over the leather cuffs attached to the table, taking in the placement before he instructs Grimmjow to bend over the padded surface. His ankles need to spread wider for the set Ulquiorra wants to use, a matching pair on the other side keeping him bent almost in half, completely off-balance with only the bench beneath him to keep him steady. The sight makes Ulquiorra’s blood burn and he smoothes a hand down Grimmjow’s back, feeling the steady ride and fall with his excited breathing. Faster than it would normally be which just proves how much he wants this, how ready is to hand himself over.

But that isn’t going to work. Too much excitement tenses the muscles, so Ulquiorra blankets Grimmjow’s back with his own, stretching up on his toes so he can run his hands down to where the leather cuffs bind Grimmjow’s wrists, his lips pressed against Grimmjow’s ear. “You need to calm down if you want me, sub. It’s not any fun if you’re already keyed up.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Grimmjow squirms beneath him and Ulquiorra hums, nosing behind his ear and smirking when Grimmjow’s ass presses back against his hips entirely by accident. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are. Breathe with me. Feel my chest against your back.” The words bring back the conversation he had with Bazz, the sensation of feeling warm and safe in Bazz’s arms with Bazz’s weight on top of his body. Not caging him but embracing him and protecting him.

Grimmjow closes his eyes and takes slow, deep breaths until his back rises against Ulquiorra’s chest with each of Ulquiorra’s own inhales. “Is this what you want, Sir?”

“Very good.” Ulquiorra kisses him on the cheek as a reward and stands back to survey him.

No part of him is ever less than affected seeing Grimmjow naked, and now is no different with every centimeter of his powerful, toned and muscular body bound helpless in place. The slight arch of his spine leading down to the swell of his ass begs for touch and Ulquiorra acquiesces with only the tips of his fingers, tracing the line of Grimmjow’s spine and stopping just before he reaches his ass. He can see the muscles there, tensing in anticipation of his touch.

Instead, he turns and walks to the wall of implements, fingers tracing over the cool metal rack bolted into the wall with its floggers, whips, canes, and various other things. The sight of the bullwhip makes his stomach ache in a familiar way so he skips it over, selecting a familiar whip instead, running his fingers over the red fabric folded into a triangle. A dragon tail whip very much unlike the one Byakuya used, with plenty of give in the whip itself.

This is as good a place as any to start up once he’s given Grimmjow the intimate touch he craves, so he tucks the whip into the waistband of his shorts for safekeeping.

He adds a riding crop and a flogger because he’s confident enough in using them, skips over the canes because he doesn’t think he could physically stomach handling one at the moment, and hesitates over a leather paddle before taking that, too. He just wants a selection; if Grimmjow doesn’t want him to use all of them or needs to stop before he’s cycled through each item, that’s fine. But Ulquiorra likes variety in any supplies that he utilizes.

Once he’s satisfied he has enough, he returns to the bench and smoothes his hand down Grimmjow’s back, smiling when Grimmjow presses up into his touch. How like a cat. “Are you prepared for what I’m going to do to you, sub? Do you want me to cause you pain?”

“Please, Sir,” Grimmjow murmurs, gasping when Ulquiorra pets over his ass with a featherlight touch. “Just… Just no whips and I’m fine. Not like the one—”

“I would never, sub,” Ulquiorra reassures him, and Grimmjow relaxes beneath him.

His palm is still warm from where he slapped Bazz and a glance at his captive audience reveals the mark is still visible on Bazz’s skin, but his eyes are quickly drawn to eyes that seem to be honed in on them. Smirking, Ulquiorra wiggles his fingers in greeting before holding each implement in front of Grimmjow’s eyes, giving him the benefit of knowing what is coming before he lines them up on the bench on either side of him.

“My hand first, sub.” Ulquiorra flexes his fingers and has to admit there’s a power rush here, watching Grimmjow wait so patiently for him to begin. “You will count each strike out loud.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow swallows hard enough that Ulquiorra can hear the comical gulp.

With no warning, he brings his hand down on Grimmjow’s ass, relishing the way the skin bounces beneath his fingers. By no means does he put his all into it, not at first; Grimmjow makes a startled noise just the same, gasping out the  _ one _ in a breathy voice that makes Ulquiorra’s dick twitch in response. A satisfied smile touches his lips and he rubs his fingers over the spot there, blooming a pale pink against Grimmjow’s skin before he delivers another slap to the other cheek, watching the way Grimmjow’s ass bounces with the impact.

He could amuse himself for quite a while just watching Grimmjow’s body react to this.

“Two.” Grimmjow looks back at him and Ulquiorra  _ tsks,  _ planting a hand on the back of his neck and pushing his face down until those blue eyes drift back to the floor.

The warmth in his palm grows hotter and Ulquiorra flexes his fingers with each spank, enjoying the sight of Grimmjow’s skin growing a deeper pink under his ministrations. He alternates where his hand lands, never in the same place twice, never in any kind of rhythm so Grimmjow can pick up on it and prepare for it. Some come in quicker succession than others, almost messing up his counting, but he stays on top of it as best he can.

After the fifteenth, Ulquiorra stops and rubs his hand over Grimmjow’s ass, shivering at the heat he can feel from his skin. “How are you doing, sub? Give me a color.”

“Green, Sir.” Grimmjow presses into his touch happily and Ulquiorra smiles, giving his ass a pinch just to listen to the noise he makes at the slight sting.

“Very good.” Ulquiorra surveys the objects he’s laid out and picks up the leather paddle, smacking it against his own palm just to watch Grimmjow’s body jerk at the sound. “Just a few with this, I think. Just to lay some pretty stripes across your lovely ass. What do you say, sub?”

Grimmjow’s breathing is strained but when he speaks, his voice is firm. “Please, Sir.”

“Such impeccable manners.” Ulquiorra tosses the paddle up and down in his hand, running his fingers over the length of the paddle before bringing it down on Grimmjow’s ass.

The crack of leather against bare skin and the way Grimmjow cries out draws a slight groan up Ulquiorra’s throat, but he swallows it back down and tells himself to pay attention. Chuckles to himself when he sees Grimmjow’s legs jerk at the cuffs in reflex but smoothes a hand over his ass just the same, spreading the heat beneath the surface so he can feel the dull ache sink deeper. Another strike has Grimmjow sagging down against the table with a loud and strained moan and Ulquiorra can see how hard he is, dripping pre-come onto the bench.

So he was serious when he said he wanted to explore what pain could do for him.

Ulquiorra rewards him with another slap of the paddle, relishing the sound, the way Grimmjow’s ass darkens to a red shade under the influence of it. When he’s hit him a full five times, he sets the paddle aside and kneels, pressing a light kiss to Grimmjow’s poor ass.

“What a good boy,” Ulquiorra murmurs, dragging the flat of his tongue over the reddened skin, shuddering when Grimmjow whines and pushes back against his mouth. “Ah, ah, be good for me. Lie here and let me make you feel better. Don’t you want that, sub?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll hold still.” Grimmjow’s hands curl up into frustrated fists just the same.

As slowly as possible, Ulquiorra presses soft kisses and careful licks to Grimmjow’s skin, feeling the heat against his lips and tongue as he does. He watches the way Grimmjow’s back muscles twitch and tremble at his touch, can see his thighs straining, the way he’s desperately holding back the urge to rut down against the bench beneath him because of course that would get him in trouble even if the image is hot, the sight of Grimmjow’s cock slick with his own fluids and rutting down against the smooth black leather.

Sliding a hand between his own legs, Ulquiorra adjusts his shorts so they’re a little less uncomfortable in his present circumstances. “Want to try another, now?”

“Yes, please, Sir,” Grimmjow says, a slight break in his words already. He’s feeling it.

“You have such lovely thighs.” Ulquiorra presses a kiss to the back of one of them, biting the supple skin there, sucking it between his lips, relishing Grimmjow’s whimper. “I’m going to leave marks on them. You’re going to feel my touch every time you sit or stand for days.”

The thought must be arousing because Grimmjow moans loud and long for him. “Please!”

When Ulquiorra rises to his feet, his hand reaches instinctively for the riding crop and he raises it to his own lips, biting down on the leather as he looks Grimmjow over. His ass looks painful and must be throbbing but he only squirms, clearly asking for more, head twisting from side to side but not back because he knows he isn’t allowed to look. The thought is tantalizing, that Grimmjow is fighting so hard to be a good boy for him.

“Color, sub,” he prompts, and Grimmjow quivers beautifully.

“Green, Sir,” he says, and Ulquiorra drags the riding crop away from his mouth.

He runs the very end of it up and down Grimmjow’s spine, enjoying the shock of black against his flesh before drawing it lower, pressing it between the cleft of his cheeks, against his hole. Lower still, over his balls, heavy and swollen. Then over to the bare expanse of one thigh; the insides are so sensitive so Ulquiorra grants him some mercy and hits the back instead.

Grimmjow jumps and hisses, the small spot blooming pink like a small flower. “It stings.”

“Does it hurt too much?” Ulquiorra presses his fingers against the spot, rubbing it soothingly.

But Grimmjow shakes his head, moaning when Ulquiorra presses hard. “S’good. So good.”

The handle of the riding crop fits perfectly in Ulquiorra’s fingers, feeling like an extension of his body as he litters Grimmjow’s beautiful, toned thighs with small pink marks. Some of them he strikes more than once, watching them bloom a deeper red. Some he rubs almost cruelly hard until Grimmjow squirms and struggles against the cuffs, whining pitifully, but he doesn’t ask Ulquiorra to stop. He doesn’t use either of his safewords.

This is what he’s been craving, what he desired when he first walked through the doors of Las Noches with Ulquiorra in tow. And now Ulquiorra can give him what he needs.

When the crop hits the inside of his thigh, Grimmjow yelps and jumps, the chains rattling. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, obviously trying to calm himself down. “Pl-please, Sir, do that again.”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra smiles at him, letting his pride show on his face since Grimmjow can’t see him, snapping the end of the crop against the inside of his other thigh.

It’s easier to mark the skin there and Ulquiorra knows Grimmjow will feel it if Ulquiorra fucks him, either rough against his ass or against the small marks on his inner thighs. The thought is intoxicating and Ulquiorra almost throws the riding crop down, fingers trembling with excitement as he imagines Grimmjow marked up from his hands and his touch, wrapped tight and hot around his cock and crooning his name. Yeah,  _ that _ is how he wants to spend tonight.

“The flogger?” Ulquiorra asks him, running his fingers over the soft black suede fronds, parting them with his fingers to fan them out. “I can start on your back. Imagine, so pretty for me. All pink and red from your neck down to your knees. You’d look amazing like that, sub.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow hesitates for just a moment; Ulquiorra rests a hand on his back, coaxing him to speak. “Can you… Sir, please, it’s. It’s sore on my legs, can you…”

The request is so sweet it almost makes Ulquiorra fall apart. “Of course, my love.”

He kneels down to press his lips over each of the marks the riding crop left behind, taking a long time between Grimmjow’s thighs where the skin is at its most sensitive, tongue and lips soothing the marks he left behind. The darker ones are here because the skin is so easy to mark and because he wants Grimmjow to see them when he looks down at his own lap, to see the marks Ulquiorra has left imprinted on his skin. He sucks one gently and Grimmjow whines at him.

“What are you going to tell them at work when they see your back this time, sub?” Ulquiorra asks as he straightens up and retrieves the flogger, giving it a shake so the fronts uncurl. “Are you going to tell them you fell to your knees at my feet and begged me to hurt you?”

Grimmjow moans at his words and Ulquiorra runs the fronds up and down his back, watching the hypnotic display with more than a little lust plaguing his entire body. He understands now just how much iron control Byakuya must have to do this, how much Aizen must have had in bed with Grimmjow; all he wants to do is toss this flogger aside and fall to his knees so he can worship Grimmjow’s ass properly, spread him open and eat him out until he’s sobbing to be split wide on Ulquiorra’s cock. But all good things come to those who wait.

Once more, Ulquiorra casts his glance toward Bazz, eyes narrowing when he realizes just how much the man is squirming in his seat. “Sit still, Bazz! You have no right to move.”

Instantly, Bazz stills and drops his head, looking every bit like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Being cute and pitiful isn’t going to earn you any mercy. You should have thought about that when it would have mattered.” Ulquiorra turns back to Grimmjow, picking the fronds up off of his skin and snapping the flogger in the air above him. The sound it makes is satisfying and the way Grimmjow shivers is more than worth it. “Are you ready for me, sub?”

“Yes. Please. I want it, Sir.” Grimmjow looks up at him, though he shouldn’t, and his eyes are hazy with need, with desire. The sight is beautiful.

Ulquiorra turns his head back around for him and then brings the flogger down on his back, watching the fronds connect to his skin, each strand striking at a different moment so that Grimmjow cries out with the force of the combination. Licking his lips, Ulquiorra gives the flogger another shake to untangle it and then strikes him again, admiring the way his skin shows color. It takes time, building the layers until Grimmjow’s skin starts to show the marks.

Like painting. Like markers. The thought reminds Ulquiorra that he wants to draw Grimmjow naked again and he wonders if he could draw Grimmjow like this, cuffed and waiting for him. Tied up and blindfolded, begging to be touched. The possibilities are endless.

He’s going to exploit every single one of them if he has half the chance.

When the flogger comes down on Grimmjow’s ass, he yells out and Ulquiorra pauses, trying to determine if that was a sound of true pain— too much hurt to be good— but Grimmjow arches his back, pushing his ass out for more, and when Ulquiorra aims another strike, he wails.

“So pretty,” he whispers, running his hand over Grimmjow’s ass, squeezing one cheek and feeling the interplay of muscle and fat there. “You’re so close to being done, sub. Just one more. Do you think you can be brave for me and take the whip after all?”

Grimmjow hesitates before he nods, a small little jerk of his head. “I want to get through it, Sir.”

“Good boy.” Ulquiorra sets the flogger down and picks up the dragon tongue whip. His only chance to touch any of these had been at Aizen and Byakuya’s home, and he’d only used them on himself and the pillows on the bed so he could learn just how hard to hit. He couldn’t explain why it felt like it had to be a secret, why he didn’t want to ask anyone to help him.

Maybe he just wants to debut these items on Grimmjow, to drink in his reactions.

The dragon tongue leaves small triangle marks on the skin, that much Ulquiorra knows from experience. So he picks out an empty spot on the back of Grimmjow’s thigh and flicks his wrist, the fabric lashing against his skin and startling a sound out of his throat. But it isn’t a bad sound, so Ulquiorra makes a path up his thigh, letting a particularly hard snap kiss his ass.

“Fuck!” Grimmjow yanks hard against the bench, but it’s bolted to the ground and goes absolutely nowhere. “Fuck, that stung so much. Do it again, Sir, please!”

“You’re so brave, my love.” Ulquiorra presses a hand down into the small of his back, urging him to stick his ass out more and rewarding him with another snap of dark fabric against his skin.

Fifteen lashes is enough to complete the set; Ulquiorra finally drops to his knees and grips Grimmjow’s hips to keep him still, peppering the skin with small kisses while Grimmjow sags against the bench beneath him. When he’s satisfied that the starch has slipped out of Grimmjow’s body, only then does he move to uncuff his ankles, helping him take a small step out of each cuff so he can rub his fingers into the skin there, assuring himself Grimmjow’s circulation is even and there are no bruises left. Then he leans under the table to do the same thing for his wrists, curling their fingers together to feel Grimmjow squeeze his hands.

“My beautiful man.” Ulquiorra blankets Grimmjow’s back with his own, the heat of Grimmjow’s reddened skin soaking through his scant clothing and settling into his bones, chasing away every last trace of winter chill. “Let me take you to the bed and take care of you now.”

“Yes, Sir.” Grimmjow stands and totters on his feet for just a second until Ulquiorra’s arms wrap around his waist, helping him steady himself before they walk to the bed together.

There is a bathroom attached to this room as well and Ulquiorra remembers the bottle of oil Aizen used on Grimmjow’s ass the first night they ever met, picking it out of the line-up on the sink and bringing it back to the bed with him. Grimmjow is already stretched out on his stomach on top of the simple black comforter and Ulquiorra joins him, warming the oil between his hands before he massages it into Grimmjow’s broad back, careful of the darkest markers. The way Grimmjow sighs for him makes him smile and he kisses the back of his neck, fingers working their way down his back. Each muscle loses all of its tension at his touch, soft and malleable beneath his fingers until Grimmjow is moaning soft and sweet for him.

He takes his time with Grimmjow’s ass, careful of how tender and red the skin is but intent on giving it as much care as it needs. Once he’s oiled him down to the backs of his knees and Grimmjow is calm and relaxed on the mattress, Ulquiorra kisses him on the cheek.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, resting his cheek on Grimmjow’s shoulder. “Do you want to call this a scene and have me take care of you now? Or do you want to keep going?”

“I can keep going.” Grimmjow catches his lips in a kiss and Ulquiorra gives him what he wants. “You did so good, that was amazing. Thanks so much for that, babe.”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra kisses him on the cheek, then glances at Bazz, red-faced and sweating even though neither of them have touched him. “He’s finally starting to feel it.”

Grimmjow sucks in a breath and looks up at him, eyes wide open and vulnerable. “Do you think he was serious about all of this? He really wants to do this with us?”

“It’s either that or he walks out with blue balls and a handprint on his cheek,” Ulquiorra muses. “Now get your knees tucked up under you, sub. I want to use my mouth on your ass.”

Obedient to a fault, Grimmjow shifts up onto his forearms and pulls his knees under him, presenting his ass like the perfect present it is, and Ulquiorra slides away from his face and behind him so he can look at him properly. The swell of his ass, the red cheeks and the shady cleft between them that he presses his fingertips to, wedging open muscled buttocks so he can have a proper look. Grimmjow’s whole is a pretty puckered pink above the smooth skin of his perineum, leading down to his testicles. He’s perfect in all the right ways.

Ulquiorra licks his lips and leans in, breathing hot and damp over Grimmjow’s hole, watching it twitch with knowing eyes. “Let me know if you need to tap out, sub.”

That’s all the warning he gives before leaning forward to drag the flat of his tongue over Grimmjow’s hole, long wet licks that sound obscene and loud in the still air around them. Ulquiorra’s mouth is wet and he could almost drool over how much he wants this, over how stupidly turned on he is every time he gets to eat Grimmjow out like this. Feeling the muscles in his ass twitch and tighten and clench against his palms, feeling the muscle of his rim throbbing beneath his tongue. He shifts his hands down, presses both thumbs against Grimmjow’s perineum and massages it while he laps over his hole.

Such a small shift in position has Grimmjow panting harshly, pushing back against his face and Ulquiorra grins, traces the edge of his rim with the tip of his tongue before licking over him once more. Over and around, around and over until Grimmjow shakes and trembles in his grasp, cursing softly under his breath. His thighs are breathtaking like this, shaking even though Ulquiorra has done so little when he can do so, so much more.

He opens his mouth and sucks on the tight rim until Grimmjow whines beneath him, hips shifting helplessly with Ulquiorra’s movements. And even then Ulquiorra only responds with minute presses of his tongue against Grimmjow’s hole, not enough to penetrate it. Not yet.

“Tell me what you want, sub.” He reaches between Grimmjow’s thighs and touches his cock, feels it hot and heavy in the palm of his hand, slick with pre-come. He can imagine it swollen and red all from his touch, his control. “Tell me or I won’t be able to give it to you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Grimmjow is struggling; Ulquiorra can hear it in his voice. “I want your tuh-tongue inside of me, please, Sir. Pl-please fuck me with your tongue.”

That’s better than Ulquiorra expected out of him; he braces a hand on Grimmjow’s lower back and spears him open with his tongue, listening to the way he moans with it.

But Grimmjow doesn’t need his hand right now; Ulquiorra has better oral skills than most, replaces his thumbs on Grimmjow’s perineum and explores the tight, hot walls around his tongue as he listens to Grimmjow mewl with pleasure. He knows Grimmjow’s body better than anyone else, presses his tongue in quick little brushes along his inner walls, an unsteady rhythm that has Grimmjow yowling as his orgasm washes over him within mere minutes.

Satisfied, Ulquiorra straightens up, sweeps a hand through his hair, and turns his gaze to where Bazz is currently staring at them, his mouth hanging open. “I need to check on our audience, sub. Can you lie here for me and relax while I do that?”

“Yessir.” Grimmjow slurs the word and Ulquiorra is so heartbreakingly fond of him.

Bazz’s body is tense on the trunk when Ulquiorra slides off of the bed to walk up to him. Without hesitation, Ulquiorra gets a hand in his hair and yanks him down onto the floor; he knows what Bazz wants, had listened to the purr of the words and felt ten kinds of scandalized at the thought that Bazz was specifically sharing something like this with him. Now he uses it to his advantage, holding Bazz’s head back by the hair, a painful arch of the neck.

“You could have caused so much trouble for something as stupid as a little fun,” Ulquiorra reminds him, letting disappointment bleed heavily in his voice. “You mouthed off to me when I had the kindness to allow you to share in our fun this evening. I could have sent you home to content yourself with nothing more than fantasy. What do you say to me?”

“Thank you, Sir.” Bazz breathes out the words and the accent on his Japanese is heavy enough for Ulquiorra to notice, a slip toward his native tongue. “I’m sorry for causing trouble, Sir.”

Ulquiorra plants a foot between his thighs, keeping them spread as wide as he wants them. “You should be. Worrying not only us, but the entire club. What an awful boy you are.” His gaze drifts toward the bed where Grimmjow is lying, panting softly still, eyes closed. “If you’re good for me, look what it earns you. You could be enjoying yourself right beside him.”

Bazz gulps in air and Ulquiorra looks down at him again, reading the desperation burning in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you, Sir.”

_ Of course you will. _ “Are you so sure there’s something you can do that will?”

A haze of doubt crosses Bazz’s face and Ulquiorra takes a step back, then tenses every muscle in his arm and shoves Bazz face down against the floor, keeping him pinned against the flooring. “You will start by prostrating yourself on the floor and begging me to forgive you.”

He plants his knee in Bazz’s back to keep him still, watching Bazz twist his head to the side so he can speak. “I’m sorry!” The genuine surprise in his voice makes Ulquiorra smile, his free hand curling beneath his chin as he listens. “I was selfish and stupid, I wasn’t thinking straight and I— I was an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry, Sir. I won’t ever put all of you at risk again.”

“Is that so?” Ulquiorra’s hand twists cruelly in his hair and Bazz hisses but doesn’t pull away from the touch at all. “You’ll prove that to me. I’m going to uncuff your hands. You can lay your pleas at my feet and use your body to apologize properly for causing your Dom such trouble.”

The cuffs are easy enough to remove and have left no noticeable marks, so Ulquiorra removes his knee and stands once more, arms crossed over his chest. Bazz rises slowly to his hands and knees and looks at Ulquiorra from the floor, then shifts up to his knees properly, hands coming to rest on Ulquiorra’s hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin above his shorts.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” There’s a softer edge to Bazz’s voice now and he leans toward, pressing a soft kiss to Ulquiorra’s bare stomach. “I never meant to worry all of you so much.”

“Then think about the consequences of your actions the next time,” Ulquiorra tells him, planting a hand on his head and pushing down.  _ You should be starting lower and you know it. _

Bazz gets the message, sinking back down, propped up on one elbow as he leans in to kiss the skin of Ulquiorra’s leg right above the top of his shoe. His lips are warm and deceptively soft, which surprises Ulquiorra and his breath trips a little at the touch, his breath tickling Ulquiorra’s skin as he makes his way slowly up his shin, fingers tracing the curve of his calf with a reverence that makes Ulquiorra feel hot and squirmy all over.

When he reaches Ulquiorra’s knee, he moves to the other leg and starts all over again.

“About time you showed me proper respect,” Ulquiorra says, trying not to sound even half as overwhelmed as he feels to have this man kneeling at his feet.

“You’re beautiful, Sir.” Bazz’s hands are rougher than his mouth, calluses dragging against Ulquiorra’s skin as he smoothes his hands up the backs of Ulquiorra’s thighs, pulling him just a step closer as he swipes his tongue along the inside of Ulquiorra’s thigh. “Like a god.”

Startled by the words, Ulquiorra isn’t prepared for Bazz’s mouth to climb just a little higher, hot and wet against the bulge of his cock just covered by the shorts he has on. Bazz nuzzles into his groin before licking, sucking the wet fabric until an embarrassing noise leaves Ulquiorra’s mouth. He’s so hard and hasn’t paid any attention to himself, intent on Grimmjow’s pleasure until now, but he doesn’t lose his balance. Even when his knees tremble, Bazz’s hands are there on his hips to keep him steady while he laps over Ulquiorra’s clothed cock with his tongue.

When Ulquiorra glances up toward the bed, he finds Grimmjow watching them, propped up on one arm with a bemused expression on his face. “Are you enjoying yourself, sub?”

“I am, Sir,” Grimmjow lilts in return, and Ulquiorra can’t hide his fond smile.

He’s almost disappointed when Bazz’s mouth slides over his stomach, a whisper of teeth against his skin before he stops right under Ulquiorra’s ribcage, the position no longer comfortable enough to suit much more stretching. Instead, he stands and shuffles back so he can sit on the trunk once more, pulling Ulquiorra to stand between his thighs.

“May I, Sir?” Bazz’s hands hover over the scrap of his t-shirt, eyes blazing like green fire.

“You may, only because you are showing me proper reverence as your Dominant.” Ulquiorra stretches his arms over his head and Bazz is so careful in taking the shirt off.

His mouth is wet on Ulquiorra’s nipples, tongue swiping over them before he purses his lips to suck and Ulquiorra lets himself moan, hands braced on Bazz’s broad shoulders. He toys with them until they’re hard and aching, flushed dark from his ministrations and then he kisses up to Ulquiorra’s collarbones, nuzzling against his throat and pressing a kiss over where his pulse beats most strongly, not daring to leave a mark there where someone might see.

Then he leans back patiently, waiting for Ulquiorra to hand down his verdict.

He does so by leaning forward, hand soft as it curls in Bazz’s hair, holding him still as he lays a gentle kiss on his lips. Bazz takes that as the positive sign it is, arms wrapping around Ulquiorra and pulling him closer, his tongue meeting Ulquiorra’s without a moment of hesitation. Pleased with this turn of events, Ulquiorra decides Bazz has suffered enough and leads him over to the bed, his heart beating wildly at the sight he’s about to get for his efforts.

“Grimmjow has been a fan of your band for longer than I’ve known him,” he says primly, placing a hand on Bazz’s back and propelling him forward. “Show him what he should receive for being so loyal to someone who would cause us this much trouble in a single night.”

“Gladly, Sir.” Bazz crawls up the mattress to Grimmjow, whose wide eyes meet Ulquiorra’s.

_ Is this fine? _ He seems to be asking, and Ulquiorra nods in answer.  _ Of course it is. _

“You’re so fucking pretty up close,” Bazz tells Grimmjow, stretching out a hand to touch his face, and the way Grimmjow flushes almost immediately is  _ adorable. _ “Are you one of the fans who fantasizes about us? Because I could really get into making one of those fantasies come to life.”

“I mean, I gotta say that watching you kiss my fiance was pretty hot.” Grimmjow grins up at him and Bazz laughs, running a hand down Grimmjow’s side. “O-oh, that’s nice.”

“You two can banter as much as you want as long as it’s friendly,” Ulquiorra says, sliding out of his shorts, the cool material starting to grow colder as the air soaks into the damp fabric. He leans back against the pillows, content to watch for now.

Bazz beams at him and then turns his attention back to Grimmjow, one hand wandering between Grimmjow’s lazily spread thighs, fingers brushing over the marks from the riding crop. “You looked amazing letting him do this to you. I kept wondering if you were gonna end up tapping out before he got to the end but you just surged through it. How good was it?”

Grimmjow pants softly under the attention, his eyes fluttering shut as his cock starts to harden once more. His refractory period has always been shorter than most, a blessing and a curse in Ulquiorra’s experience. “It was amazing. I wanna do it again so bad.”

“I hope I get to watch then, too.” Bazz wraps a hand around Grimmjow’s cock and it stiffens under his explorative touch, Grimmjow whimpering pitifully up at him. “Fuck, you’re responsive. I figured that out but not this much. Tell me what you want, baby. It’s your celebration.”

“Oh, hell.” Grimmjow covers his face with one hand and sighs, and the flush of embarrassment in his face has Ulquiorra perking up just a little in curiosity. “I m-mean, most of them are just the standard stupid fan bullshit but… I want you both to just… Use me. Spitroast me. Rough me up if you want to, I don’t care as long as it feels good.”

_ Oh. _ Ulquiorra swallows hard and moves up to his knees. “We can do that for you, Grimmjow.”

“Who do you want where?” Bazz asks, the excitement in his eyes impossible to ignore.

“He’ll suck me off while you fuck him,” Ulquiorra answers for Grimmjow, who whines and nods quickly, too flustered to speak. “Treat his ass with care. It took quite a lot tonight.”

Bazz presses a hand to his chest. “Of course I will. I wouldn’t dream of hurting him, you must think I’m some kind of monster. Where’s the lube in this room, anyway? Nightstand?”

There is lubricant in the nightstand and Ulquiorra watches Bazz slick his fingers as he kneels between Grimmjow’s thighs, stroking a slick hand up his cock a few times before creeping lower, rubbing them over the hole Ulquiorra left wet and hot with his own tongue. Grimmjow writhes on his back, gasps when Bazz presses two long, thick fingers inside of him in one fluid motion. The angle isn’t bad but Ulquiorra shifts to see better, watching Grimmjow’s rim stretch around Bazz’s fingers as he pumps them in and out, a slow and steady rhythm befitting a musician.

“God, your ass is so tight.” Bazz whistles low and Ulquiorra rolls his eyes, fingers curling around Grimmjow’s cock to stroke him slow and easy. “You’re gonna feel like heaven around me.”

“He always does,” Ulquiorra confirms, and Bazz grins wolfishly at him.

Then his gaze darkens. “Can I make a suggestion, Grimmjow? Since you’re such a big fan?”

Grimmjow opens his eyes to look up at him, choking when Bazz shifts his fingers. “What’s up?”

“Let me fuck you to the tune of “Heilig Bogen” tonight,” Bazz says. “And I’ll show you just how important it is for a drummer to keep rhythm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fact i've just topped 170k is literally blowing my mind right now. when i sat down to do nanowrimo the first time, i just barely hit 50k in time for the holidays. 70k was the most i ever managed in one fell swoop and it's been a good set of years since then; i just barely hit 50k last year and had so many days where i didn't write anything at all.
> 
> this year is the total opposite of all of that. i'm so grateful you guys have hung around for every word and have been just as into this story as i have been writing it. it's literally just flying out of me. we're winding down to the ending really close now, i swear. we're almost there, and as i said, there's going to be a sequel, so keep an eye out for that.
> 
> i'll have a longish note in the second to last chapter for you guys to know what to expect in december irt the sequel and all my other works in progress that have gone long neglected because this behemoth has taken most of my time, so keep an eye out. when you see that note, it's almost over!
> 
> another chapter to wrap up this threesome. i LOVE writing these three together.


	32. an improper engagement party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** anal sex, oral sex, spitroasting, rough sex, aftercare-related stuff

Maybe Grimmjow has gotten off once or twice with his earbuds in, the heavy beat of the drums painting a rhythm for his hand to follow on his cock.

But those small and private moments are different than this, the heavy beat of the song through the room like a second heartbeat and sending little shivers of delight down his spine while Bazz works him open with three fingers. Even over the music, Grimmjow can hear the slick wet sounds of the lube, the wet sucks and pops as Bazz’s fingers sink effortlessly deep inside of him because he wants this so bad. Doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so badly in his life as he wants this, and Bazz shows so signs of slowing down.

Thank God. Grimmjow would probably die of embarrassment if he did.

Ulquiorra returns to the bed and Grimmjow looks up the length of his fiance’s body to his eyes, his green gaze dark and burning as he looks over the two of them. There are still little wet spots on his skin, shiny under the lights, from where Bazz had kissed and licked his skin. Maybe the sight made Grimmjow  _ want, _ almost shaking from how much he wanted to be part of that, be with them or between them, it doesn’t really matter to him as long as there’s contact.

He never thought the sight of Ulquiorra with another man’s mouth on his body in such a worshipful and desperate way would turn him on so much. Sure, it’s what  _ he _ wanted to do himself, to sink to his knees, mouthing at Ulquiorra’s soft skin and cock until he was a panting and moaning mess, but watching it had been just as hot, as it turns out.

Maybe more. Maybe a little more because the man on his knees had been Bazz.

“How you doing, handsome?” Bazz presses his fingers into Grimmjow’s prostate before he can answer, wringing a desperate and needy cry from his throat. “Ah, sounds good to me.”

“Here.” Ulquiorra throws something at him, a foil packet hitting Bazz on the chest before falling to the mattress beneath him. “You don’t have my permission to make a mess out of him.”

“Fair,” Bazz agrees, picking the condom up off of the bed. “All right, Grimmjow, hands and knees if we’re going to do this properly. Let me see that pretty ass up in the air again.”

He feels dizzy as Bazz pulls his fingers free, rolling over onto his stomach and rising to his hands and knees as asked with more than a little difficulty. He’s still sore and overly warm from Ulquiorra’s hands, the impact play leaving him aching in pleasant ways and the oil will probably ensure the pain that comes down is not as extreme as it could be. Still, he wants a bath when they get home just to make sure his muscles are in working order for tomorrow at work.

When he looks over his shoulder, Bazz has the packet open and is rolling a condom over the shiny slick flesh of his cock, the glans huge and wet with pre-come before it’s encased in latex. Grimmjow’s mouth falls open; how the fuck is that supposed to  _ fit? _

“Relax,” Bazz says, as if sensing his distress, resting a hand in the small of his back. “I got you ready. I’m not gonna hurt you as long as you breathe and let me set the pace.”

Nodding, Grimmjow turns to Ulquiorra, who comes to kneel in front of him, hands on his face, soothing the sweaty strands of his hair off of his forehead, kissing a whimper off of his lips.

The kissing keeps him distracted enough that he doesn’t even hear the sounds of Bazz preparing himself until he feels that thick head against his hole, rubbing over his rim and sending a shiver of want through his entire body. He feels like he’s definitely too tight for that but Bazz leans over him, presses a kiss to his spine that threatens to melt every muscle in his body and rolls his hips just a little, just enough that the tip slips inside. Grimmjow’s mouth opens around a choked moan, the initial stretch seeming to go on forever, pulling him wide open, stretching him impossibly. And then Bazz is inside of him.

Just this much of him feels heavy and hot inside and Grimmjow tries not to squirm too much at how full he already fails, crying out when Bazz grips him by the hips and eases his way inside, one fluid thrust that leaves Grimmjow panting and shaking. He’s so  _ wide _ that he scrapes over every sensitive nerve on his way inside, dragging over Grimmjow’s prostate in an impossibly long stroke that makes every nerve in his body fire at once. He’s shaking by the time Bazz’s hips are resting against his sore ass, so full he can’t take anymore.

He claws at the mattress and heaves, his eyes rolling back in his head. In answer, Bazz presses kisses along his shoulder blades, murmurs to him about how  _ tight _ and  _ hot _ and  _ perfect _ he feels. And then Ulquiorra is there, kissing him again, the two of them an anchor.

Still, there’s so  _ much _ inside of him. He’s fucked guys and played with toys and none of them compare to what Bazz has inside of him, heavy and thick and full.

“Open your mouth, now.” Bazz’s fingers press past his slack lips, pushing down on his tongue until it hangs out of his mouth, drool smearing across his chin. “Very good. Ulquiorra?”

“Can you take more, Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra asks him, wrapping a hand around his cock, stroking it from base to tip. Pre-come beads pearly on the head and oh, Grimmjow  _ wants. _

“Yes.” He swallows hard and when Ulquiorra moves closer he whines pitifully because he’s not close  _ enough. _ “Please fuck my throat, Ulquiorra, I’m begging you.”

A satisfied little noise rises in Ulquiorra’s throat when he’s finally rewarded, Ulquiorra’s cock heavy and hot on his tongue, the familiar taste of his skin grounding Grimmjow and taking his mind off of Bazz for just a second. His eyes flutter shut and he takes his time with it, bobbing his head to take Ulquiorra deeper into his throat, opening up around him. With both of them inside him his hands are shaking, nails digging into the sheets beneath him.

“You ready for me to move?” Bazz rubs a hand up his side and Grimmjow shivers but makes an affirmative noise that he hopes Bazz can understand like this.

Thankfully, Ulquiorra can. “He’s ready. Go easy on him, he’s overwhelmed right now.”

Tears sting the back of Grimmjow’s eyes at Ulquiorra’s words.  _ Always taking care of me. _

“Of course.” Bazz’s hands slide up, fingers pressing into Grimmjow’s hips as he slowly draws out, Grimmjow almost choking around Ulquiorra’s cock at how that feels. “I’ve got him.”

The slow drag of his cock on the way out is just as overwhelming as it was on the way in but worse now, Grimmjow achingly empty in the absence of it. A low groans reverberates up his throat and draws a soft little sound from Ulquiorra in turn as Grimmjow’s throat unintentionally vibrates around him. Grimmjow laps around his shaft, goes back to bobbing his head so he can taste Ulquiorra dripping across his tongue and down his throat and God, he wants to touch. The position doesn’t allow for it but he wants to wrap his arms around Ulquiorra’s thighs, hold him down and work him over with his mouth until Ulquiorra is sobbing.

Bazz thrusts back in and Grimmjow loses his ability to think about anything at all.

His cock is just as amazing as the size promised and it doesn’t hurt much beyond a slight burn as Grimmjow’s body learns to accommodate his girth. He’s so long, reaching deeper inside of Grimmjow than any man ever has before and Grimmjow can’t help the little noises that keep coming up his throat, no doubt giving Ulquiorra a little extra stimuli. The hands on his hips hold him in place because he’s almost desperate enough to follow that cock on its way out, trying to keep it inside of him. Wanting to feel Bazz full and hard as deep as he can go.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” Bazz’s praise drips hot and warm down his spine and Grimmjow eyes roll a little when he thrusts in harder than before, his hips thudding against Grimmjow’s ass. It  _ hurts _ but in the best way, a little sting to the ache already there.

The song throbs through Grimmjow’s veins and he realizes Bazz is timing himself with it, hadn’t been able to figure it out before because he was too focused on just feeling it. On just the drag of Bazz’s cock over every sensitive part of his body, huge hands holding him where he wants him, manhandling him despite the fact Grimmjow isn’t that much smaller than him to begin with. Yumichika’s voice is sinfully sweet over the speakers, soft pleas for pain and pleasure, the sting of an open palm, fingers digging in and  _ oh,  _ Grimmjow shivers all over.

How much worse is it in German? He doesn’t know. He’ll have to ask Ulquiorra to tell him.

The push-pull of Bazz’s cock inside of him makes it hard for him to focus on anything at all but Ulquiorra only grips him by the hair, holds him where he wants him and fucks into his mouth in a slick, hot slide that has Grimmjow’s eyes falling shut as he just gives himself over to it. His tongue occasionally flicks up, teasing Ulquiorra’s cock but otherwise he just keeps his throat open and his lips pulled over his teeth. Gives Ulquiorra a wet, hot hole to fuck and loses himself in how it feels to have both of them using his body like this.

Bazz is ruthless, keeps to the rhythm of the song and as soon as Grimmjow’s body is opening easy around him, starts increasing the impact of every thrust until they hit deep and hard and Grimmjow jerks with every single one. Ulquiorra isn’t nearly as rough with him but he doesn’t have to be, knows how to use Grimmjow’s mouth so that both of them feel good, until the slide of his cock in Grimmjow’s throat feels like something he’s not going to be able to live without. Like he’ll feel the phantom sensation long after Ulquiorra comes.

When he realizes Ulquiorra has picked up the rhythm, fucking him to the song alongside Bazz, he almost comes right then and there. Can feel the needy pulse in his cock.

“You’re doing so well,” Ulquiorra tells him, fingers sliding down the side of his face, brushing away a small tear that frees itself from his eye just from how  _ good _ all of this feels.

“So fucking well,” Bazz echoes, and Grimmjow quivers under the praise, heat blooming in his gut, his toes curling in the sheets. “And you feel so good around me, baby. I could do this all day. Maybe we’ll tie you up some time, fuck you at our discretion.”

That sends another bolt of heat to Grimmjow’s cock; he can imagine being tied up just like this, maybe to a frame, just left to be used as they see fit. He’d  _ die _ from the wait, he’s sure but he’d do it for them, let them use him. Take his pleasure from how much they want his body.

He knows Ulquiorra can’t hold out much longer. Can feel the steady stream of pre-come, the throb in his cock, the way his breathing comes out fluttery and shaking as the fingers in his hair tighten, a subtle warning not to move. So Grimmjow doesn’t; he just stays in place and  _ hums, _ pulls Ulquiorra over the edge with nothing more than that slight vibration, his fiance crying out above him as he spills hot and wet down Grimmjow’s throat.

When he slumps back against the pillows, his dick wet with Grimmjow’s spit, the sight is better than anything Grimmjow could have imagined. And now that Ulquiorra’s come he lets his arms give out under him, his cheek pressed against the mattress. It presses his ass up higher and he sobs when Bazz’s next thrust hits him deeper than anything ever has.

“ _ Fuck! _ ” Bazz’s fingers dig into his hips and Grimmjow hopes he leaves marks. Wouldn’t that be a sight? He could jerk off for days to the thought of Bazz marking his body. “You good, Quiorra?”

“I’m done,” Ulquiorra tells him, a breathy little laugh leaving his soft lips.

Bazz hums. “Then you care if I flip him over? I wanna bend him in half, go all out.”

“Go ahead.” Ulquiorra leans down, presses a kiss to the corner of Grimmjow’s mouth. “I know he’d like that. And don’t hold back because he can definitely take all you have.”

As soon as Ulquiorra moves away, Bazz pulls out and Grimmjow groans at the loss, at how empty he feels without Bazz inside of him. He can’t complain for long, though, manhandled onto his back. Bazz’s entire body glistens with sweat and he looks like a wild god kneeling between Grimmjow’s thighs, gripping one of his ankles and bringing it up to rest on his shoulder, turning his head to press a kiss against the skin thin over the bone.

“You are  _ so _ fucking sexy,” he says, and Grimmjow purrs at the praise, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the pace of his breathing. “I’m gonna make you come screaming my name without even touching your cock. You think you can handle that, baby?”

He nods frantically, not sure he can even form words right now, barely able to get out one. “Please. Please please please.” A mantra laid at Bazz’s feet.

Bazz grins down at him, lifts the other ankle to rest on his other shoulder. “Sure thing, pretty boy. You don’t gotta beg. You want a kiss before we get started?”

Grimmjow nods because  _ yeah, _ a little tenderness sounds perfect right now. Bazz’s smile is so gentle as he leans over and  _ oh, _ the position presses Grimmjow’s knees almost into his chest, a preview of what’s to come. And then Bazz kisses him, rough and passionate and wet, licking the taste of Ulquiorra’s come out of his mouth until he’s trembling, gripping at Bazz’s arms frantically. Like this kiss could devour him and this is the only way he can steel himself.

“So fucking pretty, Grimmjow.” Bazz pecks him on the lips and then shifts, and Grimmjow can feel the head of Bazz’s cock rubbing over his hole once more. “Take it deep for me.”

The stretch feels so good that Grimmjow’s head slams back into the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes it in, the heat and the stretch and his body opening so easily around something so huge. Bazz groans above him and Grimmjow gasps at the sound, jerks his eyes open so he can see Bazz’s face screwed up in pleasure. He’s doing that. It’s his body that’s giving Bazz this pleasure and it makes something hot and tight curl in his gut, burning in his veins. Bazzard Black, getting off just from behind inside of him, fucking into his willing body.

“Bottoming out in you is like a fucking dream,” Bazz tells him, and the words pulse through Grimmjow’s body in time with the lyrics of the song still curling through the air. On repeat, Ulquiorra put it on repeat.  _ I’ll give you the choice, I’ll let you pick. I want to choke you down until it makes me sick. _ “You ready for me? I’m not gonna hold back this time.”

Like Grimmjow would ever  _ ask _ him to hold back. “Fuck me  _ please. _ ”

“Oh  _ baby, _ ” Bazz purrs, and then he does just that.

The pace he sets is punishing. It burns through Grimmjow’s entire body, leaves him dull and aching as the roughed up skin of his ass drags against the sheet, Bazz’s hips slamming into him with every thrust and wringing screams from his throat. Even with all the lube it feels raw and rough and he grips Bazz’s shoulders hard enough to bruise but he has to hold onto something, his body aching from being folded up so small and tight.

Bazz wasn’t kidding when he said he could keep the rhythm. The song is all Grimmjow can hear over his own fervent cries, the thud of flesh against flesh as their bodies join again and again. There’s no break in Bazz’s rhythm either, no stutters or hiccups. Just the never-ending pump of his hips, his cock driving into Grimmjow so fast and hard that it has his entire body shaking as he struggles just to keep up. He can’t even move like this, bore down by Bazz’s weight on top of his body, the pulse of his cock and the way his arms wrap around Grimmjow, keeping him still.

It should feel like he’s being held down. Maybe even scary. It’s stupid but he feels  _ safe _ like this, Bazz panting and hot and sweaty above him, spearing him open with every thrust, holding him where he wants him and driving Grimmjow’s pleasure. Without even touching his cock, he shoves him closer and closer to the edge of orgasm with nothing but the steady strokes of his cock, holding Grimmjow against his chest until his body shakes and jerks violently.

Too much, too much  _ too much _ and then Grimmjow screams loud and long, his back arching off of the mattress as his body finally gives in to what Bazz is feeding him. The orgasm is long and powerful, tensing every muscle in his body but he can’t move much, can only squirm and pant and struggle and tremble because Bazz is still holding him, still fucking into him with filthy wet noises that make Grimmjow flush too, too hot. His cock spills hot and wet on both of them and then he’s sobbing because Bazz is still going, rubbing over nerves too sensitive and raw for it. Thankfully he comes fast, his entire body tensing as he groans.

_ I did that, _ Grimmjow thinks lazily, looking up at Bazz’s body, the sweat on his skin and the pleasure-soft smile on his face, the way his eyes all but glow as he finally lets Grimmjow’s legs down and touches his face so gently, so fondly.  _ He looks like that because of  _ me.

The music switches off and Bazz eases out of him so gently it doesn’t even hurt, and then Ulquiorra is there, pressing reverent kisses to his lips. “You did so well for us, Grimmjow.”

“That was amazing.” Bazz drops down heavily on the mattress next to him, wraps an arm around his chest and pulls him in close to kiss the side of his neck. “I’ve never been able to do that to someone else before. They always tap out because it’s too much for them.”

“Keep holding him for me,” Ulquiorra says, and he disappears from the bed once more.

“Oh, gladly.” Bazz hooks a leg over one of Grimmjow’s own, nuzzles the side of his neck and sucks on his skin, probably leaving a mark behind. “How you feeling, baby?”

Grimmjow grasps for something to say to him, his head foggy and tired, his body aching. “Tired,” he finally gets out, and Bazz laughs against his skin. “That was good, though. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I was more than glad to do that.” Bazz’s fingers drift down his stomach, dragging through the semen on his skin, bringing it up to his lips to taste.

When Ulquiorra returns, he has a few things in his hands, throwing a wet washcloth at Bazz. “Clean him up since you made such a mess of him,” he says evenly, and Bazz grins at him. “Grimmjow, I have water and a few things for you to eat. Think you can eat for me?”

The thought of food makes Grimmjow brighten. “Absolutely,” he says, and Ulquiorra smiles.

For all his rough treatment, Bazz is surprisingly gentle as he wipes Grimmjow’s body down, cleaning the lube and semen off of his body, a few slow swipes against his oversensitive hole making him shiver in response. Then he gets to sit up against Bazz’s chest while Ulquiorra gives him water and feeds him pieces of fruit and chocolate, which is just amazing to him. He basks in the attention, not even ashamed of it. He likes having these two beautiful men doting on him like this, feels warm and safe in Bazz’s arms and under Ulquiorra’s watchful eye.

“Was that a good engagement present?” Bazz asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Grimmjow’s head. “I really put my back into it so I hope that about covered it.”

Grimmjow snorts at him. “Yeah, it was fucking amazing. I screamed, didn’t I?”

“Did you drag us all the way out here in the middle of the night specifically because you were trying to get the two of us in bed?” Ulquiorra asks, and Grimmjow’s eyes widen as he looks up and back at Bazz, wondering about the implications of those words.

Bazz shrugs a shoulder. “Figured since you guys were involved with the power couple, you must have been into the open relationship thing. Sorry, but like… You’re both hot and I wanted to see what it was like, fucking you both. I mean I only fucked Grimmjow tonight but maybe we can do a round two sometime in the future and I can get to experience both.”

“The open relationship thing,” Ulquiorra says slowly, testing the words out.

The words have Grimmjow frowning as well. “I guess I never thought of it like that before.”

“It’s what Aizen and Byakuya do, that much I know.” Ulquiorra sighs and folds his legs underneath him, a troubled expression on his face. “We walked into this without giving it too much thought, I think. It was fun, don’t get me wrong. But we should have thought it out some.”

“You said yourself that not thinking things out the first time around was what fucked you up so bad in your other relationship,” Bazz says, and Grimmjow hums in agreement… And isn’t annoyed that Bazz is bringing it up. Not at all, actually. “Didn’t you? Wasn’t that the whole point of that conversation? You made choices and didn’t think them through?”

Grimmjow stretches out a hand and Ulquiorra leans closer, takes Grimmjow’s hand in his own and squeezes it. “We really didn’t think much about it. We walked right into it without thinking twice about it. Maybe we should’ve, like… Talked about it. The kid stuff we could have known about ahead of time if we’d really talked about what they wanted in life.”

“That’s true. Hush, though, you’re supposed to be resting.” Ulquiorra kisses his fingers and Grimmjow smiles tiredly at him. “We can always talk to them. We have plenty of time. I just… I feel foolish for not considering that the first time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. People make mistakes, especially in emotionally charged situations. Like maybe sneaking off to a sex club,” Bazz says, and Grimmjow weakly swats his thigh, chuckling when Bazz fakes an exaggerated yelp.

“Well, tomorrow maybe. Not tonight.” Ulquiorra stretches his arms over his head slowly and Grimmjow admires him, how pretty he is, the muscle definition in his lean torso. “We should be getting home, Grimm. You have work and so do I. And it’s been a long night.”

Bazz heaves a pitiful-sounding sigh. “Then I guess this is goodbye for the night, huh?”

“Hmm.” Ulquiorra curls a hand beneath his jaw and looks thoughtful, his eyes unfocused and a little distant before he speaks again. “Yumichika took your car. How are you getting home?”

“Oh. Shit. I forgot about that.” Bazz laughs, the sound vibrating against Grimmjow’s back.

“I’ll just call a cab and have it meet me down the street or something so I can get out of the building. Just in case the driver recognizes my face or something, they won’t have a reason to assume I came out of the club. Thanks for reminding me.”

“I was about to ask you if you wanted to come back home with us, but I suppose if you have plans…” Ulquiorra rolls his shoulders, as if saying it can’t be helped.

But, of course, Bazz backtracks. “Well actually—”

“You can stay the night with us,” Grimmjow tells him, and Bazz beams before leaning down to kiss the top of his hand, hands rubbing soothingly over his abs and coaxing a small purr from his lips. “I guess we got the room in bed. You sure about this, Quiorra?”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra smiles pleasantly at him. “This is something I am very sure about.”

They take their time getting dressed and when Grimmjow realizes that there is no way in hell he’s going to be able to put the fishnet on over the top of his back, Bazz lends him his leather jacket and helps him walk out of Las Noches. He has to wear Grimmjow’s coat instead of his own and pulls the hood up, the combination of that and the beanie doing a good job of hiding his face. It helps that he’s letting Grimmjow lean on him, supporting his weight. No one’s eyes are moving to him first and foremost when they glance in their direction.

Ulquiorra presses the remote start on the car before they make it to the nightclub and he signs them out while Bazz holds Grimmjow back against his chest, murmuring soft soothing words in his ear. The pain is really starting to set in and he definitely plans on taking that bath before bed even if he risks falling asleep in the water. That and some Tylenol would fix him up.

The drive home feels blessedly and Grimmjow stretches across the entire backseat, watching Bazz drum his fingers on his knees in time with what’s playing on the radio. No one speaks but that’s fine because the quiet is pleasant and reassuring for a change, not tense.

Dully, he remembers groping Ulquiorra on the way here. He’ll have to get him back into the shorts at some point in the future so he can show proper appreciation to his legs.

Getting out of the car proves to be a torture all on its own but now that they’re in the garage, Bazz just scoops him up off the ground and carries him into the apartment. “I got you,” he says when Grimmjow makes a vague protesting noise before just giving up and settling into Bazz’s embrace. “That’s right. Let me take care of you. No shame in that, right?”

“Right,” Grimmjow agrees. If Bazz wants to be prince charming, why the fuck is he fighting it?

“I’ll run you a bath before bed,” Ulquiorra says after he’s locked the garage door, hurrying ahead of both of them and upstairs.  _ Two _ prince charmings. Grimmjow is so lucky.

Bazz sits him down on the couch and helps him undress, tossing the coat aside like it means nothing, helping Grimmjow out of his jeans. He’d been naked in this room before they left, when Ulquiorra— And then Bazz notes the sketchbook and picks it up, whistling as he looks down at the image inked onto the paper. Someone else might have been embarrassed but Bazz had spent a good portion of tonight fucking Grimmjow’s brains out, so what would be the point?

“Is this Quiorra’s? It’s really good.” Bazz smiles wolfishly down at him. “The likeness is perfect.”

Grimmjow nods, groaning when he stretches his arms over his head. “Shit, I’m sore.”

“You took a hell of a lot tonight. Ought to be proud of yourself. You got Advil or something?” When Grimmjow nods and tells him it’s up in the bathroom, Bazz picks him up once more and carries him upstairs, his body heat leaching into Grimmjow’s exhausted body.

Ulquiorra is a step ahead of both of them, has the pills waiting on the sink beside a bottle of water when they make it up there. He presses them between Grimmjow’s lips and hands him the water without another word and Grimmjow makes a mental note to do something for him in return. When Bazz lowers him into the hot water, a thankful noise leaves his lips and he sinks deep into it, intent on making sure all of his sore skin is enveloped by the heat. It feels heavenly and goes a long way toward making him feel much better.

“You’ll have to wear something of Grimmjow’s to sleep in,” Ulquiorra says after a beat, pushing himself up to seat on the counter. “Nothing of mine is going to fit you.”

Bazz snorts and sits down on the toilet lid, and Grimmjow feels satisfied to have them both in here with him. “Like that’s gonna be such a sacrifice. I ain’t worried. You care if I borrow a pair of pants, baby? Or do I gotta fuck you in the water to convince you?”

“Oh God, don’t tempt me. Yeah, it’s fine.” Grimmjow laughs and Bazz smiles softly at him.

When he’s feeling as well as he’s going to be, and the pills have kicked in, Ulquiorra drains the water and Bazz supports his exhausted body while they take turns drying him off. He gets to sleep between them which is  _ amazing, _ Ulquiorra a curled-up little ball against his chest while Bazz settles against his back, the warmth of his chest seeping into Grimmjow’s skin. At least he’s not going to get cold during the night and aggravate his back and ass.

They have to talk to Byakuya and Aizen. He knows that, especially after tonight. But for now he settles between them and just enjoys himself, the closeness and warmth of these men, the pleasant ache deep in his bones. This isn’t a bad way to spend the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fact that i got hit with shark week literally in the middle of writing this chapter is just proof that the universe is trying very determinedly to make sure i a) don't hit 200k words and b) don't finish on november 30th which i am determined to do both no matter what happens. i could lose a hand at this point and still find a way to go on.
> 
> that's not a temptation, universe.
> 
> anyway uwu bazz stays the night with them. i loved writing these three together, it was a lot of fun. but now what's going to come next? we'll have to see~


	33. fantasy and reality collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** lots of verbal fighting
> 
> **sexual content:** none

The call from Kenpachi the next morning shatters whatever illusion Aizen has of having a quiet morning in with Rukia before Byakuya has to take her to the hospital.  _ “Hey, Sosuke. Sorry to interrupt but what the  _ fuck _ were my boys doing at  _ your _ club last night?” _

“Excuse me?” Aizen freezes, every muscle in his body tensing as he processes the words. From his position at the kitchen counter, he can see Byakuya and Rukia sitting together on the couch, Rukia chattering away to him about something he can’t quite make out while Byakuya smiles softly and nods, patiently listening to her. “We weren’t there last night, we had Rukia over here at the house so we left the club to Halibel. What are you talking about?”

_ “We just did an interview without Bazz because none of us could get a hold of him,” _ Kenpachi says, and Aizen feels something in his stomach drop at the words, his breathing catching in his throat because how is this possible? This cannot be possible.

But he moves smoothly into crisis control like he always does. “Do you know if he left Las Noches with anyone last night? How many people even ended up there?”

_ “He went with Yumichika. Just the two of them. Yumichika came from his place bitching about how he didn’t get to do anything and he had Bazz’s car.” _ Oh, so they’re already firmly stuck in panic mode if Bazz didn’t even have a way to leave. The gears in Aizen’s head are churning; didn’t get to do anything? Had they been in the club, or— No. They couldn’t have.  _ “The last time he saw him was when he left the dungeon. Your boys showed up looking for them.” _

_ My boys? _ “Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were there looking for them? Why would they do that?”

_ “Yumi says he asked them to come and they showed up. Which, what the fuck?” _ The tone of Kenpachi’s voice is none too pleased, not that Aizen can blame him because this is far too much for him to sort through an hour out of bed.  _ “I’m thinking he probably left with them because that’s apparently where he was when Yumichika finally left.” _

The thought does not sit well with Aizen; keeping a respectful distance from Nozarashi is the only real rule he and Byakuya ever exercised in their relationship with the band. Friends, yes, that much is fine. But after the scandal where all Kenpachi did was  _ drink _ with Byakuya in a nightclub where plenty of eyes could have seen them not touching each other, it seemed like a good idea not to indulge any of them. No matter how much Yumichika flirted once he joined the band. But  _ Bazz? _ He could be a troublemaker, but he’d never tried to involve himself like this.

There was the one odd scandal about five years ago where a fan claimed plenty of outrageous things, but they had an alibi for that and it went away. Surely his boys know better than to get involved at such a level? Surely they know the consequences of such a thing?

What if someone had seen them? The club itself doesn’t have the same tight security as the dungeon. Any photographers could have gotten in if they really wanted to. If this was splashed across the news the same morning that Rukia was staying with them, it was only going to hurt their chances to keep her and Aizen had just promised himself he would do anything to ensure their home was the one she ended up in. It was a perfect storm of uncontrollable shit.

_ “Aizen!”  _ Kenpachi snaps at him and Aizen winces at the tone of his voice, none too pleased about it.  _ “Find him, find out what the fuck happened, and handle the fact that we’re getting all kinds of questions because Bazz wasn’t there and he never misses a chance to show off. They had questions about his fucking drumsticks and he wasn’t here to answer them.” _

Of course, Bazz would have been on the schedule to do the interview, which is where the real problem arises. It means that people knew he was supposed to be there, and if someone has photographic evidence of him at Las Noches, then Aizen isn’t sure he’s going to be able to weather the storm that arises from this. None of them are going to be able to pull that off.

“I’ll do what I can. Don’t answer any interviewers until I call you back.” He hangs up the phone, checking his call log once more to be sure of something.

Ulquiorra called him last night. Was he trying to tell Aizen that Nozarashi members were at Las Noches and he needed back-up? Aizen wouldn’t have been able to come no matter what but he still wonders why Ulquiorra hadn’t sent him a text message or left him a voicemail, something to let him know what was going on. Why would he do this when Rukia... Why wouldn’t he—

_ No. _ Aizen stops himself and shakes his head. He isn’t going to blame this on Ulquiorra’s lack of communication issues because he  _ tried _ to call and Aizen didn’t answer, and nothing would have gotten him to leave the house last night with Rukia here anyway. No amount of scandal would have coaxed him away from this cozy domestic night in, so it doesn’t matter if Ulquiorra tried to contact him or how he chose to do it. Aizen would have ignored him.

His thumb hovers over Ulquiorra’s name for a moment before he presses down on it and hits the Call button, moving to the side of the kitchen not easily seen from the living room for some measure of privacy. Once he knows what’s going on, he can talk to Byakuya.

Surely, Ulquiorra himself would have exercised some amount of caution when it came to who he chose to interact with sexually and would have realized the sheer amount of danger they were in by doing anything with Bazz. Maybe they had just taken him home with them when Yumichika took his car? Stupid, because Bazz should have just gotten a cab and gone home, but he knows how hard it can be to tell Bazz no, knows all about that warm and infectious personality of his, how he can make green seem like an extremely sympathetic color when it benefits him. If he just crashed on their couch, that’s no problem. Aizen can handle that.

Well, he hopes he can handle it. He doesn’t want Las Noches on the front page for the wrong reasons, not when anything could cost them their custody of Rukia.

He expects Ulquiorra’s voice to answer. He doesn’t expect Bazz, all sunshine this morning, bright and clear-voiced.  _ “Hi, Aizen! Ulquiorra’s in the bathroom, how can I help you?” _

“Where the fuck were you last night?” he asks, cutting straight through the bullshit and dropping all manner of professionalism. If it’s something this big, then Aizen is not going to be nice about it. Not right now. Not when his family, when what his family can become, could be on the line. “Because Kenpachi told me you and Yumichika were at my club.”

Silence on the other end of the line, then a sigh.  _ “Yeah, you got me. Sorry about that. Quiorra already gave me the third degree for showing up at all so I won’t risk doing it again.” _

“Thank God for his common sense.” That still doesn’t explain why Bazz is on Ulquiorra’s phone. He better just have crashed on the couch. “Why do you have his phone in the first place?”

_ “Oh, I stayed the night. They offered since Yumi took my fucking car. Can you believe that? It was  _ my _ car and he just took the keys straight out of my pocket and left with them. Guess he’s real mad that dude tied him up and wouldn’t touch him.” _ Bazz barks laughter, as if this concept is the funniest one he could possibly come up with off the top of his head.

Someone tied Yumichika up? Probably Tosen. Probably doing his own brand of damage control, and as long as he didn’t leave marks— he never does, unless asked— then no one has any proof it even happened.  _ I’m giving him a raise. _ “You missed an interview this morning and Kenpachi called me in a rage demanding to know where you were. What is going on?”

_ “Interview? Huh. Guess I forgot to schedule it into my calendar or I would’ve been there.” _ Bazz fumbles around, based on the shuffling and thumping on the other line; Aizen waits patiently for him to return, tapping out a rhythm on the counter.  _ “I found the problem! My phone’s dead.” _

Aizen closes his eyes and tries not to think about how frustrated he is. “That was very irresponsible of you. I would have Byakuya tell you this himself, but he’s occupied. A pity for you, since he’s nicer about these things than I am. People are already asking questions about where you were and why you didn’t show up, and you should have—”

_ “I got sick and was stuck in bed with a miserable strain of the flu. Couldn’t be fucked to charge my phone when I felt like I was dying.” _ Bazz rattles the lie off like he’s been thinking about it, which just isn’t possible and proves that he lies far too often.

“I’ll let the public know shortly, then. You really should charge your phone and get on one of your social media accounts and express the regret you have.” Aizen pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales slowly; this might be okay. This might be fine. As long as no one has any incriminating photos, as long as Bazz was smart enough to cover himself up before he walked into Las Noches, they might have nothing to worry about. “Now, are you at their apartment?”

_ “Yeah. Quiorra’s a total babe, letting me stay over. It was his suggestion.” _ Which doesn’t impress Aizen at all, he expects Ulquiorra to be the one who knows better.

Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Aizen looks up at the ceiling. “You need to call a cab to come pick you up and go home. I’m sure there are already all sorts of rumors going around that I need to lay to rest. You should have just gone home to begin with, I don’t know why—”

_ “I mean, yeah, but running out on people isn’t exactly a good look, is it?” _ Bazz asks him, and Aizen freezes at his choice of words.  _ “‘Sides, they offered. I wasn’t gonna say no.” _

“Running out on,” Aizen parrots back to him, tasting the words on his tongue.

_ “We were celebrating their engagement. Which hey, you should be pretty excited about! I’m gonna see if I can convince Ken to play the reception or some shit since Grimm’s such a big fan.” _ The words have Aizen pausing all over again.  _ Engagement? Reception? What? _

He blinks up at the ceiling, trying to remember if either of them had said anything to him recently about an engagement, if either of them were wearing rings the last time he saw them. He could ask Byakuya for a more direct answer but he wants to hold off on his husband knowing about this until all of his questions have been answered. But Ulquiorra and Grimmjow said nothing about getting engaged, and surely they would have told Aizen or Byakuya or Renji before someone like Bazz. Maybe he’d just found out, though. Rings could be hard to hide.

Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to worry about. What he has to worry about right now is how this is going to look, their names all in the headlines. “You shouldn’t be at their place. If anyone sees you, there could be drama that I really don’t want to deal with.”

_ “You should be thanking them both for showing up as Las Noches and playing damage control when you and Byakuya were nowhere to be found.” _ The edge in Bazz’s voice surprises Aizen and he’s about to comment on it when Bazz goes on smoothly like he’d never said anything at all, like he hadn’t just made a serious comment in Aizen’s direction.  _ “Stop getting so high-strung about anything. Nothing happened and no one saw me who’ll say anything about it.” _

“Maybe so, but the risk was unnecessary and the last thing we need is another scandal where Byakuya’s name could be dragged through the mud,” Aizen insists.  _ Especially now. _

A sigh on the other end of the line.  _ “I know, Aizen. I get it. I was careful, they both made sure of it. No one knows a damn thing. Halibel even let us use a private room and everything.” _

“What?” Aizen whirls around, forcing his voice down quieter. “What do you need a room for?”

Bazz laughs at him.  _ “What do you use private rooms for? We couldn’t fuck on the floor.” _

“You fucked my boyfriends?” The words come out in a hiss and he can hear Bazz yelp in response on the other end of the line. “In  _ my _ dungeon? Bazzard, you  _ know _ better.”

Shuffling on the other end of the line has him confused until a deeper and more expected voice comes on the line, a low sigh exhaled into the phone.  _ “Sosuke, I presume you’re the only person who could put the fear of God into Bazz’s eyes this morning. How can I help you?” _

“Let me make sure I understand exactly what happened last night from what I’ve been able to piece together.” The bite in his voice is not deserved, not on Ulquiorra’s part, but he doesn’t have a way to control himself. Not right now. Not in the wake of all of this. “Bazz asked you and Grimmjow to come to Las Noches and you two came to stop him and Yumichika from doing something regrettable. Yumichika left with Bazz’s car and instead of just telling him to get in a cab and leave, you took a member of the band whose public relations I have to handle to one of our private rooms, had sex with him, and then brought him home to your apartment.”

Silence on the other end of the line, and then.  _ “I don’t appreciate your tone of voice. I am an adult, you should speak to me like one. Yes, we had sex with Bazz. He’s a grown man, and if you were so concerned about what happened last night, you could have called me back.” _

“You didn’t even leave me a voicemail,” Aizen protests because it’s true. He might not have left the house but he could have done  _ something. _ He could have called Yumichika or Bazz, maybe called Halibel, cut this all off before it could even start. God, what a fucking  _ mess. _

_ “I didn’t have the time or the patience. But if you weren’t going to call back, maybe you weren’t concerned.” _ Ulquiorra sighs at him again and Aizen is pretty goddamn irritated by that noise.  _ “Halibel didn’t call you either or you would have already known this happened. So if she could believe that we were handling it in an appropriate manner, why can’t you?” _

That stings more than a little. “You do realize that Byakuya has already had trouble with the press because of drinks, correct? Drinks, nothing more than that. Literally talking at a bar. If anyone saw you come out of the dungeon with Bazz, or go home with him, or—”

_ “If you’re concerned it would have reflected badly on you, there isn’t any evidence we even have a connection with you.” _ The hurt in Ulquiorra’s voice is clear and Aizen winces at the sound of it, not sure how to respond in the wake of it. Has he said something offensive or insensitive? He’s only reacting to something that could have easily ruined them all.

“You don’t know the press like I do. You don’t know what they’re willing to do when it comes to  _ nothing, _ much less something they can actually use to further their own agenda.” How can Ulquiorra not realize this? He’s so intelligent. Is he just ignoring it purposefully?

_ “No, you’re blowing everything out of proportion. So  _ what _ if someone found out we were with Bazz? They can’t link it to you and Byakuya if you weren’t even on the premises and you have a guest book and cameras set up to monitor who comes in and out. You weren’t here.” _ Ulquiorra takes a deep breath and Aizen braces himself because the tone of Ulquiorra’s voice is enough to tell him just how much he’s going to hate what comes out of his mouth next.  _ “I don’t know where you were last night or what you were doing, but you weren’t here. Halibel trusted us and you don’t. I don’t know where the hell you get off calling my phone and talking to me like this. No one who matters knows that we’re with you two. No one would have made the connection. If it would have damaged the reputation of anyone, it would have been us. Have a nice day, Sosuke, and tell Byakuya I’m sorry to have caused you all so  _ much _ trouble.” _

He hangs up the phone as soon as he finishes speaking and all Aizen do is stare down at it in disbelief. The guilt comes crawling in a second later as Ulquiorra’s words take root in his mind; he hadn’t, for a second, stopped to consider that both of them have reputations to uphold as well and that being in the tabloids could hurt their lives, too. That Ulquiorra is relatively well-known at what he does and Grimmjow works in a very public location.

Shit. He really put his foot in his mouth this time. He didn’t even think to ask about the engagement, had just launched into a tirade at one of his partners.

_ No one who matters knows that we’re with you two. _ What is that supposed to mean? People  _ do _ know. They were at Kurosaki’s bar together to see Renji play, they were at the diner together before that. Byakuya was out with Ulquiorra one afternoon. There’s no reason for anyone to think that they aren’t together… But then, Aizen and Byakuya aren’t  _ famous. _ Their names are known among fans because they’re friends of Nozarashi, and because of a scandal. That’s it.

And if no one of note had been at those three locations, then no one would know. Maybe no one had even noticed or cared because Nozarashi is a hell of a lot more important than anyone who works with any of them. In other words, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were the ones whose names were on the lines and Aizen squeezes his eyes shut at the thought.

He’d jumped straight to how it could affect him and Byakuya and their chances with adoptiong Rukia and having the family they wanted, and he hadn’t considered them at all. No wonder Ulquiorra hung up on him. He had every right to be upset.

“What’s wrong?” Byakuya’s voice behind him stirs him from his thoughts and he turns to see his husband standing there without Rukia. “I sat her in front of the TV when I heard you raise your voice, but I don’t think she noticed. You were arguing on the phone with someone.”

Honesty is the best policy, and Aizen has all the answers now. “Bazz and Yumichika snuck off to Las Noches last night and Bazz didn’t turn up at their interview today.”

“Of course they’d do something like this on the one night we weren’t occupied.” Byakuya rolls his eyes but Aizen can see his muscles drawing with tension just the same as he no doubt tries to figure out just how much damage control they have to do. “How bad is the fallout?”

Aizen shakes his head. “No headlines or anything or Kenpachi would have said so when he called me to ask where Bazz was. But he stayed at Las Noches in one of the private rooms and then, well. He went home with Ulquiorra and Grimmjow. He’s with them now.”

“Were they there when he showed up?” Byakuya asks, frowning when Aizen shakes his head. “I’m not following, then. How exactly did he end up with them?”

“He asked them to come, and they did.” He lets that sink in, watches Byakuya’s puzzled expression blossom into one of wonder and then one of disappointment. “I know.”

Byakuya runs a hand through his hair very slowly. “Do they realize what could happen if their names were mentioned anywhere? Ulquiorra conducts most of his business online. One can presume his customers would keep tabs on social media websites, or at least some of them must. He gets plenty of word of mouth business. Grimmjow, well…”

_ Even Byakuya was smart enough to think of them before he thought of us. _ “We can’t afford a scandal right now, you know that. No one can find out that his happened.”

“I agree. We’ll have to purge the guest book and lock down the SD cards that have footage of them, put them away somewhere safe just in case we ever need the rest of the footage for the future.” Byakuya heaves a sigh, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “This is fine. We can handle this— Actually. Why are Grimmjow and Ulquiorra involved with Bazz?”

To this, Aizen can only shake his head, spreading his hands out wide to show how confused he is by this turn of events. “I don’t know. I know Ulquiorra and Bazz are friends and that Ulquiorra did the logo on his drumsticks, but that’s all I know. I didn’t realize they were closer than that.”

“That’s the part I’m the slightest bit uncertain about. I mean, they’re grown adults. I don’t presume to say they can’t have sex with who they want.” Byakuya shrugs. “We do, and often, which is how they even ended up in the picture. But it’s someone that I manage, and should our relationship ever become something the public is aware of, it could cause problems. I mean, there are fans who keep up with us because we’re close with Nozarashi.”

_ Closer than we should be, maybe. _ “Yes. I don’t even know if this is a one-time thing or not. I didn’t get the chance to ask before Ulquiorra hung the phone up on me.”

“You must have said something to upset him. What it was, don’t even bother.” Byakuya waves a hand in his face, a clear sign to shut up. “We need to focus on Rukia right now. It’s not ideal, but we can handle whatever happened between you two later. She needs to go to the hospital, but first we need to feed her. She doesn’t like what they serve in the cafeteria.”

Aizen nods, taking a step forward to wrap his arms around Byakuya’s waist. “I’m sorry there’s been trouble caused when she’s here. I know you wanted this to be perfect for her.”

“I did. As far as she knows, everything is fine. I’d like to keep it that way.” Byakuya hugs him back, his cheek pressed against Aizen’s. “We  _ need _ to figure out what’s going on with them. I want her to stay here, but I need Ulquiorra’s actual answer before I can do anything else.”

“And if we pressure him, he’s only going to prove us right when he says we’re not giving him much of a chance to choose in the first place,” Aizen reminds him, as unfair as this all is.

_ Oh, right. _ “Bazz informed me he was helping them celebrate their engagement.”

“Their what? What did you say? Did you say  _ engagement? _ ” Byakuya takes a step back to look at him and all Aizen can do is nod, just as perplexed as Byakuya is about everything. This morning has been nothing but a whirlwind of confusion he doesn’t know how to process. “That’s… No. I am not dealing with this right now. It has to wait. Everything else is going to wait until Rukia is with Hisana. Then I’ll talk to them myself and see what the hell is going on.”

The frustration in Byakuya’s eyes mirrors what blooms in Aizen’s gut, but as he moves to start breakfast, a whole new host of questions enters his mind. He’s measuring out flour and sugar for pancakes while he files through the last few times he’s seen Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. Neither of them had been wearing a ring; he would have noticed it. They started on this BDSM journey together with them being partners but not engaged and not married, which means it must have been something recent. Were they going to surprise Aizen and Byakuya with the news and Bazz had simply beaten them to the chase? It was possible.

He wonders if they were keeping it to themselves for another reason and shakes his head; it isn’t  _ fair _ to have these thoughts. The two of them have gone out of their way to prove just how good they are, and Ulquiorra’s recent communication issues do not immediately nullify all of them even if it would have been so with partners less certain of his intentions. Aizen is not a teenage boy. He is not a child. He is an  _ adult _ and can understand other people having flaws.

By the time he has three plates of pancakes sat out on the table, the guilt gnawing at his gut is back in full force and despite Byakuya’s words, he pulls out his phone to tap out a quick apology text message to Ulquiorra.  _ I’m sorry for speaking to you the way I did on the phone. I didn’t mean to come across so harshly, and you didn’t deserve it. I’d like to talk to you in person to apologize properly and because we have a few things to talk about. Nothing bad, of course. _

His phone vibrates while Byakuya is helping Rukia sit at the table, cutting up her pancakes for her.  _ We do have a lot to talk about, and no I didn’t. Thank you for acknowledging it. _

Well, that’s one problem possibly resolved. Aizen breathes a sigh of relief and sits down at the table, where Rukia immediately launches into telling him about the dreams she was having last night with an animated expression on her face and around bites of pancake.

_ I want this so bad, _ he thinks, watching her violet eyes glitter as she gestures with her small hands, almost knocking her fork off onto the floor in the process.  _ But am I willing to lose both of them to get it? Because with the way I was running my mouth on the phone, it was possible. _

He wouldn’t blame Ulquiorra for wanting to walk away there and then for his behavior.

But Byakuya is right about one thing, for certain; they need Ulquiorra’s answer sooner rather than later. The difference in Rukia this morning and every other day they’ve gone to see her is visible in her happy smile, her bright laughter, her happy conversation. She doesn’t look half as wan and pale as she did yesterday when they picked her up. She  _ needs _ their care.

_ Am I willing to let them both go if Ulquiorra’s answer is no after all? _

It’s not a fair question to ask, and he knows it; Byakuya made it clear he wasn’t going to pick Rukia over their partners, the most determined answer he’d been able to give them. It was a reassurance, a promise that his love for them meant something. For Aizen to sit here and rethink that decision on his behalf is nothing but bad, and selfish, and wrong. But he can see the way Byakuya smiles when he looks at her; he wants her as much as Aizen does, ten times more because he’s always been a part of her life. Letting her go would be impossible.

Letting her go to any other person, any other family, is impossible. Aizen just knows it.

He has to hope that Ulquiorra makes the choice for him so that it doesn’t come down to this, to seeing Byakuya heartbroken as he gives away the child he already clearly thinks of as his daughter. But if he doesn’t… Aizen just doesn’t know. He wishes it was easier, that it was fairer than this, but there’s no way he can just make it so. Feelings are not black and white.

“Sosuke has to go to work straight away so I’ll be dropping you off on my own.” Byakuya hoists Rukia up into his arms and she looks at Aizen, as if asking him for confirmation.

“Sadly, yes,” Aizen tells her, pressing a kiss to her cheek before patting Kon on the head. “My job is very important and starts very early, so I have to go. But I’ll see you soon, baby girl, okay? Byakuya’s going to take you to see nee-san. You can pick the radio station.”

Rukia nods, but her expression is troubled. “Can I come back and visit some more? Please?”

“Hopefully soon,” Byakuya tells her, and Rukia seems calmed by that answer, wrapping her arms tight around his neck and leaning against him. “On that note, goodbye, darling. We’ll be going now. Let me know if you need me for anything.”

Not five minutes after Byakuya leaves the house, Aizen’s phone rings. Grimmjow’s name is splashed across the screen and he sighs before answering. “Hello, darling. I heard you had—”

_ “Don’t. Just don’t. Ulquiorra made me promise not to do this but I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of all of this shit.” _ Grimmjow sounds exhausted, and Aizen can’t blame him. It’s been a rough few days for all of them, and it wasn’t helped by him snapping like that.  _ “We made a call and I don’t care if you disagree with it, it wasn’t yours to make. Nothing’s online which means no one even saw what happened, so you have a lot of… Sosuke, is this about the girl? Is it about Rukia?” _

He shouldn’t be so surprised that Grimmjow is perceptive enough to figure this out, but he is a little startled just the same. “She was with us last night. Yes, this… It does include her.”

Grimmjow is quiet for a long moment before he clears his throat.  _ “That’s shitty of you to do to us. You told Ulquiorra he got time to make a choice, but this is your way of saying he doesn’t.” _

“It isn’t. The neighbor who usually watches Rukia wasn’t able to last night, so she stayed with us instead of sleeping at the hospital.” Aizen wishes either of them were in front of him right now, could see how sincere he is, how he sounds. Everything is going wrong this morning when just last night, everything was as perfect as he could have hoped. Rukia even slept through the night. “Were we supposed to let her sleep beside her dying sister all night long?”

_ “Oh for the love of God, cut the shit. You don’t get to guilt trip me for asking a simple question.” _ Grimmjow barks laughter on the other end of the line and Aizen winces at the sound, at the harshness of his voice.  _ “We were having a good few days, you know. We had it out but we were fine. Bazz told me he let the engagement slip but I’m not even mad about that.” _

“Congratulations,” Aizen says, though it doesn’t sound like he means it. Right now, it’s hard to.

The snort he receives lets him know his sentiment wasn’t exactly well-received.  _ “He was so happy and then whatever you said on the phone had him upset before I left the house. Bazz is hanging around to make sure he’s okay but honestly? Fuck you for making him upset at all.” _

“I didn’t mean to upset him, Grimmjow. Surely you can understand being under this amount of stress. Nozarashi aren’t just friends; they’re people that I work with. My job description is to make sure their image is as pristine as it can possibly be, which isn’t always easy.” Aizen can tell he’s getting worked up over this conversation, that he should just stop talking and go about his day, but he can’t. Not now. Not about this. “You aren’t making it easier. By all means, sleep with who you want to. I’d be a hypocrite for telling you not to, but this was a line to cross.”

_ “A line to cross? A line to cross was you making these fucking choices behind our backs without telling us and doing shit that just puts pressure on us.” _ Grimmjow sounds absolutely furious; Aizen can just imagine how well that’s going to go over when he gets home to tell Ulquiorra about this conversation.  _ “You really should just fuck off. I get it. We don’t fit into the picture perfect life you have with Byakuya and Renji and Rukia, right? We’re a disruption.” _

“No one has ever once said you two were disrupting anything between the three of us, and you know that. That’s not fair. We’ve made it well-known that we  _ wanted _ this with you.” He can’t believe Grimmjow would even say that, but deep down he knows why.

He and Byakuya have been making choices as if Grimmjow and Ulquiorra aren’t even a part of their lives. It has to stop, but he’s not sure  _ how _ to make it stop. It’s so hard when the five of them aren’t on the same page about everything, when conversations are so difficult to have.

_ “You don’t have to say it, Sosuke. It’s there in the way you act. The way you make choices. This was a big one. Hell, Quiorra tried to call you to let you know what was going on and you didn’t answer, and then you get mad at him for it?  _ That  _ isn’t fair.” _ Grimmjow is evidently not taking any prisoners this morning, not that Aizen can blame him. He would do the same thing for Byakuya.

And had, hadn’t he? No matter how much Grimmjow and Ulquiorra talked about how they felt it was unfair he and Byakuya hadn’t asked them about Rukia earlier, Aizen hasn’t truly thought they were doing the wrong thing deep down. He’s been waiting for Ulquiorra’s agreement, assuming he was going to get it. Making more choices without it, assuming it was coming. That Ulquiorra would be in perfect agreement when he’d never said such a thing.

It has to stop. He  _ knows _ that intellectually. He just doesn’t know how. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult to acclimate to a new relationship when I’m used to the way things are right now. But I am trying, and I will keep trying for the two of you. Please tell Ulquiorra I would like to talk to him face to face when you get the chance. I really want a chance to apologize to him in person.”

_ “Only if you don’t try your guilt trippy bullshit on him when you know he’s in a delicate as fuck place right now,” _ Grimmjow demands, and Aizen closes his eyes.  _ You truly are protective of him. _

“I won’t do that to him. Not in a thousand years. If he wants, we can meet somewhere in public where he can easily walk away and not have to look back.” It would be easier to have the conversation on neutral ground. He wants Ulquiorra to feel as comfortable as possible.

The way Grimmjow sighs makes him bite back an irritated noise of his own.  _ “Yeah, I will. I gotta go into work now. Try not to cause more fucking trouble while I’m there.” _

The call cuts off without a warning, and Aizen sets his phone on the wireless charger to clean up the kitchen while he waits to hear back from Ulquiorra.

At least Byakuya doesn’t know just how bad the morning has gone to hell and back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone involved here is really between a rock and a hard place and i don't think half of them mean to sound as angry as they are or as mean as they sound but things just happen when it comes to sensitive information like this. we'll just see what happens next i suppose.


	34. making friends in unusual places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** none

When Bazz inevitably has to leave to go explain himself to Kenpachi and after he’s made the appropriate fake social media posts, Ulquiorra bundles himself up and goes for a walk. He has a destination in mind even through the fiercely cold air, ignoring how cold his hands are in his pockets as he forges a path ahead toward town. There’s a coffee shop he has in mind, somewhere out of his apartment that he can sit and think about he conversation he had with Aizen this morning and all the implications in the conversation itself.

He keeps telling himself not to over worry about things, that Aizen spoke in the heat of the moment and was just worried about what people might say. Just the same, Ulquiorra can’t quite quell the pain in his chest when he thinks about the cruel way Aizen spoke to him about something as important as their relationship with one another. How could he act such a way? Ulquiorra’s doubts from the night before resurface once more; he and Grimmjow walked into this relationship like foolish teenage boys in love instead of stopping to consider anything first, and now that very issue is coming back to bite them in the ass tenfold.

Waking up this morning, Ulquiorra was happy. He was tired but satisfied, happy to see Grimmjow still deeply asleep and not bothered by Bazz’s arms secure around him. He’d kissed them both good morning and then got dressed, slipped out of bed to make coffee and breakfast as a surprise. Not even realizing he’d left his phone on the nightstand on its charger and not caring because all he could think about was how high he was riding after last night, how good it felt to control both of the powerful, gorgeous men asleep in his bed.

Bazz joining him in the kitchen with his phone and a concerned expression on his face only spelled out the trouble coming. Now, Ulquiorra feels most of the good feelings from this morning have slipped out of his grasp and it makes him sigh, disappointed in himself. Disappointed in Aizen. Disappointed that what had been a perfect, idyllic morning was rudely crashed.

Ulquiorra’s brain is hardly functioning at full capacity when he steps into the coffee shop and by the time he’s collected a drink he’ll nurse for a few hours and a pastry he’ll only pick at, he realizes there’s a familiar face tucked away in the corner with a cup of his own and food he hasn’t touched. For some reason, Ulquiorra gets the feeling he’d be intruding to walk right up to him, but he looks… Sad, and letting that go feels just as wrong.

So he takes a deep breath and decides not to play the part of the introvert today, walking up to the table where Hirako Shinji sits with his chin propped on one hand, staring out the window. “Hi. You look… Not so great. Would you like some company?”

“Hmm?” Shinji’s pale brown eyes dart up to his face and for a moment, it looks like he doesn’t quite recognize who Ulquiorra is. “Oh, it’s you. Here to reprimand me again?”

“What? No. You just. Look sad.” Ulquiorra squirms, unable to help how it feels being put on the spot like this, but he supposes why Shinji would make that remark. “I can go sit somewhere else if I’m bothering you. I’m sorry. You just looked like you didn’t want to be alone.”

Shinji heaves a sigh and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Sorry, I’m being an asshole for no reason this morning it seems. Go ahead and sit down. I’d love the company.”

Slowly, Ulquiorra lowers himself into the other side of the booth and folds his hands around his own cup, the coffee warming his fingers just enough to feel good without burning them. “How was the rest of the night for you? I’m sorry you got in trouble like that.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Hal was well within her rights to punish me for pulling the stunt I did. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway.” Shinji rolls his eyes, most likely at himself, and then takes a sip of whatever’s in his cup, grimacing slightly. “Ugh. But it’s no one’s fault but my own.”

“You look like you’re still feeling it.” Which confuses Ulquiorra because he knows punishment can be intense, but he didn’t think Shinji would wear it so obviously the next day.

The comment earns him a weak chuckle. “I like you, you know. Upfront. Nah, I dropped while I was still restrained. Hal and Ran figured I could use a little time to myself to figure out what I’d done wrong and feel properly bad about it and I just. Yeah. Ran felt like shit about it, but it’s not her fault. I usually don’t drop like that. It’s just been a rough time lately.”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra picks a blueberry free from his muffin, tucks it into his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I really did almost fuck up on an extreme scale. Would have messed up a lot of lives if that got out.” Shinji laughs, but the sound is hollow and his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which look tired and red-rimmed. Like he’s been recently crying.

The symptoms of sub drop are ones Ulquiorra remembers well from the lesson; crying would be well within those, as well as fatigue which is probably why Shinji looks so tired. “Do you have someone to help you through the drop, or do you prefer to handle it on your own?”

“Eishima was the one who took me down when he realized what was going on and I’m staying at his place right now. I live on the other side of town but he didn’t want me home alone and frankly, I can’t blame him for that.” Shinji pokes his own pastry but otherwise doesn’t touch it; he must not be in the mood for food right now. “God, but I appreciate him and everything he does for me. I guess he really misses me, but nothing I can do about that now.”

Ulquiorra lifts his head slowly. “Misses you? Did you two used to be together?”

“Mm. Something like that.” Shinji sounds disinterested in the topic now, his eyes drifting across the table before he sits up a little straighter. “Is that an engagement ring? It’s pretty.”

“This? Oh, yes. Grimmjow proposed.” It feels weird, holding his hand out across the table so Shinji can get a better look at the ring. “I haven’t had time to really tell anyone. I didn’t even have time to tell Sosuke before he chewed my ass out— Sorry, this isn’t about me.”

Shinji cocks his head. “Sosuke-chan had a go at you, huh? Was it about Bazz and Chika?”

“Kind of. It feels hypocritical to say anything about it now when you got in trouble for it, but. We took Bazz back to one of the private rooms and kind of.” Ulquiorra doesn’t finish; he can see the flicker of surprise in Shinji’s eyes that tells him his words have gotten through just the same. “Bazz told him about it on the phone this morning when he called me to ask about what happened. And he tore me a new asshole for the choices I made.”

“Sounds like Sosuke. That’s a disappointment, though. Was that your first fight as a… Poly group? I guess? If that’s what you’re calling it?” Shinji asks, sighing softly when Ulquiorra nods. “I’m sorry. That’s always rough. It’s never easy even when it’s just two of you.”

“You speak like you have experience with the subject,” Ulquiorra prompts.

When Shinji smiles at him, the expression is small and fleeting. “Ah, perhaps I do. Are you fishing for information? I haven’t even told Sosuke about my torrid past.”

“I’m not fishing if you aren’t volunteering,” Ulquiorra says quickly; the last thing he wants to do is end up making the same mistake he made with Grimmjow, talking to someone else other than the people who should have known to begin with. He doesn’t want to ever have someone that angry at him again, much less his fiance. “You didn’t tell him? Is there a reason why?”

“He just doesn’t need to know. So.” Shinji is quiet, staring down at his pastry before promptly tearing a small piece off of it. He doesn’t eat it, just sets it back down on the wax paper. “Eishima and Kensei and me, and some other people, we were a big group, right? We were together in different configurations. Shared a big house. We loved each other so much.”

There is no missing the past tense way Shinji speaks. “I guess you aren’t together anymore?”

“Nah. Eishima and Kensei both wanted to settle down and play house for real and I just. It’s not for me. But I guess we never talked about our expectations of each other like we should have so we had a big fight about it.” The way Shinji laughs makes it sound like he’s moved on but there’s something distant and sad in his eyes, in the way his fingers move to the ends of his hair. It’s longer than when Ulquiorra met him, long enough to lay against the top of his coat.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say. “I understand how that goes, though. The last time I was in a relationship like this, we had the same issue. And now I’m not with them anymore. I suppose that just happens without proper communication.”

Shinji hums like he agrees and rests his chin on the back of his hand again. “Yeah, you get it. How’s that going, then? The current thing? I crashed on Sosuke’s couch after I moved out of the place we all shared and I felt… Weird just doing that.”

“What do you mean?” Ulquiorra asks, brows furrowed.  _ Weird sleeping in a guest room? _

“So like, I love Sosuke and Byakuya together. Everyone does. They’re like two prince charmings and all that, and it’s nice, but.” Shinji presses his lips together and sighs through his nose, giving his head a little shake. “I’m not trying to insult your men, but when two people are married for like a decade, it’s like… I’m sorry. I’m projecting.  _ I _ felt uncomfortable staying at their house because they feel like a fairy tale come true and I felt like I was intruding on that.”

This is not a conversation Ulquiorra should be having with Shinji, but maybe part of him jumps at the idea of having a kindred spirit to discuss this with. Grimmjow wouldn’t be angry with him for this, would he? Surely not. Not after this morning. “That’s how I feel about this. Sosuke was mad at me for maybe endangering his reputation, and Byakuya’s. Not so much mine or Grimmjow’s.”

A low whistle leaves Shinji’s lips before he sinks back into his side of the booth, the lines of his body exhausted as his gaze shifts toward the window again. “That’s shitty, but I guess I get it. His gut reaction was to protect himself and his husband. I mean, they fought hard for this life.”

“Yes, I know. I really can’t help but be amazed at what they have together. It just… Felt strange, being treated like the one threatening it.” And saying it out loud like that simultaneously lifts a weight from his shoulders and threatens to crush him down into his seat.

“Not to sound mildly dickish but it’s not like it would be any worse than if it got out they had three boyfriends on top of each other.” Shinji snorts and Ulquiorra smiles down into his cup as he takes another drink of his coffee, the notes of mocha soothing some of the anxious knots in his gut. “Sorry, I just. I love Sosuke, don’t get me wrong. He’s just being dramatic over things.”

Even if it makes sense  _ why, _ at least Shinji sees the truth of the situation. “Maybe he’s upset because he thinks we’re going to ruin their chances to adopt this little girl.”

“Oh. So they’re going to adopt after all. I was wondering if they were ever going to get around to having kids.” Shinji’s fingers move to his hair again, curling in soft honey gold strands. “I didn’t know you were all going to settle down and play house together. And I just bitched about it. Oops. Well, I’m sure you’ll all be able to figure it out together.”

He should let go of the conversation right then and there, knows that pushing forward with this risks all sorts of awful things. Instead, though, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and decides to head off at least one argument.  _ Do you mind if I talk to Shinji about the issues we’ve been having with Sosuke and Byakuya? Since he has a history with them. I don’t want you to think I’m talking to someone else about issues instead of you. I just want perspective. _

_ Thank you for telling me. _ Grimmjow messages him back almost instantly and he can’t ignore the way it makes his heart beat just a little bit faster.  _ Go ahead, Quiorra. Let me know if there’s anything enlightening that comes out of the conversation. I’m just as lost as you are. _

Ulquiorra presses a kiss to the screen of his phone and then pockets it. “Sorry. Grimmjow and I had an argument about me talking to someone instead of him about an issue I was having, so I was double checking that he was okay with me talking to you about this.”

“About what?” Shinji cocks his head. “What are we talking about that’s so big?”

“It’s just… You know Sosuke. It sounds like you have some experience with things not going right, in this area, and I.” Ulquiorra stops and shakes his head, taking a slow and deep breath, forcing himself to take a proper bite of his muffin. When he’s chewed and swallowed, he finally speaks. “Something like that is going on, I think. Sosuke and Byakuya, they want to adopt this little girl, and I feel like maybe he’s angry at us for almost messing that up for him.”

Shinji is quiet for a long time during which he manages to take a bite of his own pastry, though it doesn’t look like he even tastes it. “Yeah. That’s probably about the size of it. I know it’s probably hard for them, but like… Did you even agree to wanting a kid in the first place?”

“I haven’t,” Ulquiorra says, because it’s the truth.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can see how this is causing trouble for all of you. I’m sorry about that.” Shinji stretches a hand across the table and Ulquiorra meets him halfway because if Shinji has dropped and is asking for physical contact, Ulquiorra isn’t going to deny him of it. Especially during such a strenuous conversation. “They’re married, y’know, they’ve probably talked about it, but… If you don’t want a kid, you don’t want a kid. And you don’t adopt one anyway.”

So he understands the exact situation Ulquiorra has found himself in. “Byakuya really wants her in his life. And I feel like if I tell him no, then he’s going to resent me for it.”

“I mean, yeah. If he wants her and you tell him no, he’s gonna be so mad. But what are you supposed to do, say yes anyway? It’s a shitty position because there’s no answer that’s going to make everyone happy.” Shinji squeezes his hand, as if Ulquiorra is the person between the two of them who needs comfort the most right now. Maybe he wants to delude himself into thinking that’s true, take his mind off of whatever is bothering him right now.

Ulquiorra will let him do that right now. He needs it. It’s clear in his eyes, in his voice.

“That’s how I feel,” he admits. “I can’t make a choice without upsetting Byakuya or raising a child in an environment where I don’t… I don’t want her. Maybe one day, I’ll want children, but right now I just want to enjoy my life and think about the day I’ll call Grimmjow my husband.”

“We should become better friends by then so you can invite me to the wedding. I love free food.” Shinji flashes him a grin and Ulquiorra laughs, because at least that smile looks genuine.

And then he sighs, raking his free hand through his hair to push it back out of his eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard. They’re married. They’re like, a unit. And Renji is in there with them because he’s been around for so long. So like, we aren’t. It’s not the same.”

“I get that. How could it be, in such a short period of time? Short of love at first sight, you can’t just force something that fast.” Shinji drags his teeth over his lower lip, strokes over Ulquiorra’s knuckles with his thumb. “Not to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, babe, but if they want kids and you don’t, that’s a pretty clear issue you have with each other.”

“An issue I can’t rectify easily because it’s just not something I want in my life right now. And I know they do, which makes this so hard.” It erects a wall between them, one they can’t easily scale. What if Aizen and Byakuya never get this chance again? What if Rukia ends up somewhere awful, with truly terrible people who hurt her? They would never forgive Ulquiorra, and he wouldn’t even blame them. But it doesn’t change how he feels about it.

Shinji clears his throat. “Did your parents love you as a child?”

_ What? _ “They did. I never wanted for anything, really. When I came out, they were supportive.”

“So like, when I was ten years old, my parents died in a car accident. My best friend Hiyori, her parents were pretty damned neglectful.” Shinji’s voice goes strangely distant as he speaks and Ulquiorra has to scoot a little closer to hear him properly, his words fading out around the edges like it’s an effort just for him to talk. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up without parents. Or grow up knowing your parents don’t love you. Kids pick up on shit like that so fast, the lack of something they’re supposed to have. Or used to have.”

“I can’t make myself love Rukia. I feel bad saying that, like I’m a monster or something for not wanting to adopt her even though her situation is so bad, but…” But it is what it is. And Ulquiorra doesn’t want to raise her in an environment where he can’t guarantee his own feelings.

To his surprise, though, Shinji only smiles sadly and squeezes his hand once more, linking their fingers together. “That’s smart, though. Do you have any idea how better off this world would be if people just didn’t fill their lives with children they never wanted in the first place?”

Ulquiorra nods slowly. “I have an idea. I’ve known a lot of people whose parents were awful.”

“Right. So you get this super shitty situation where the kid is the one who suffers, and that’s not fair to anyone. So you’re not wrong.” Shinji looks at him meaningfully, the rawness in his gaze keeping Ulquiorra pinned in place. “Saying no is not the wrong thing in this situation.”

Having someone not involved in their relationship, someone who isn’t even  _ friends _ with him, say that out loud soothes a part of Ulquiorra’s soul. “Thank for your understanding my point of view.”

“Understand it? I lived it, Ulquiorra. I had men breathing down my neck about wanting kids while I kept telling them there was no way in hell I could do that.” Shinji snorts. “Hell, I’m still trying to learn to love myself, much less love someone else. I don’t have it in me. It’s not bad to look someone in the eye and tell them you just can’t. Anyone who says otherwise is wrong.”

The idea of Shinji being a kindred spirit in this had never occurred to Ulquiorra; he’d written the man off far too much, and it wasn’t fair to him. But he makes up for it now, squeezing Shinji’s hand in return. “Thank you for listening to me. You’ve been an enormous help.”

“You want some advice? It’s not gonna sound particularly great, I’m sure, but it’s the truth. From someone who’s lived it.” Shinji drops his voice once more, though this time seems purposeful.

Ulquiorra nods, bracing himself for something that might just end up pissing him off.

“You aren’t going to like it, but… Leave them. I’m sorry, but you should.” Shinji pauses, as if waiting to see if Ulquiorra is going to flip out on him, then quickly continues. “I get it. You love them. It’s hard. It hurts to think about that. Believe me, I  _ know. _ I was with my group for years. We were a single unit. So it sucks to think about it like this, but Byakuya is never going to just be okay if you say no, and we both know that. And you’re never going to be able to live with that, and you’re not ready for a kid. This is a big deal for all of you. It’s a deal breaker, something of this magnitude. You should leave, let them have their fairy tale, and make your own with that hunky boyfriend, sorry, fiance of yours. It’s how all of you get a happy ending.”

Truth be told, Ulquiorra is braced for this advice exactly. It was the same advice Bazz had given him; to talk away, to do what was best for himself and for everyone else involved if things went wrong. Hearing it out loud doesn’t make it hurt less; the idea of walking away from the two of them, and from Renji, is hard to wrap his head around. The three of them made him feel loved and cherished and safe; Byakuya’s focused attentions, Aizen’s trust, Renji’s reassurances. They wanted him and Grimmjow in their lives. He knows that, truly and wholly.

And then Rukia. And Ulquiorra knows that Byakuya promised not to put her ahead of their agreements to take care of her, but that doesn’t change the fact that he would never be happy without her in his life. Without her under his care.

Something that Ulquiorra, despite his best efforts, can absolutely not give him.

“I think you already know that’s the right thing to do, though.” Shinji’s smile is soft and sad and it makes Ulquiorra’s chest hurt more than he wants to admit. “I know you love them, baby. I can see it in your eyes. You really don’t want to have to make this choice.”

Ulquiorra blinks back the sting in his eyes because he is absolutely not going to break down crying in a coffee shop. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s hard. Thank you for this talk. It means a lot. Is there anything I can do to repay you for being willing to hear me out like this?”

“You’re sweet. There is something, though. I’m going to have Eishima come and pick me up. I told him I just wanted a moment, but I can’t do this.” Shinji laughs again and Ulquiorra can hear the depth of sadness in his voice, the fatigue, the pain. He needs someone. “I just want you to wait here with me so I don’t have to sit here on my own.”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra smiles softly in return. “I’ll stay until he walks up to the table to collect you.”

While he waits, he and Grimmjow text back and forth for a few minutes as Ulquiorra lays out the depth of the conversation with Shinji; by the time he sends the last message, Grimmjow is insistent on going on his lunch break so they can talk about this. Ulquiorra apologizes at least three times for making this day so hectic for both of them but Grimmjow promises him it’s not a big deal. That he’d rather get through this when they both have a chance rather than drag it out, hurt a lot of people, and not know where to go from there. Which is more than fair.

The few times Ulquiorra has been at Las Noches, he hasn’t seen the man who walks up to their table, his dark red hair drawn back into a ponytail that reveals his handsome features; he looks young but the concern in his eyes and around his mouth make him look older.

“Shinji,” he breathes, leaning down to cup Shinji’s face with careful, delicate hands. “I really should have just kept you back home. You look twice as tired as when you left.”

Instead of bucking off the touch, Shinji leans into it, his eyes softening. “I feel ten times worse. Bad feels, you know the drill. Coffee and food didn’t really help much.”

“It looks like you didn’t eat.” Eishima frets over him for a few seconds more before he realizes Ulquiorra is even sitting there. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Shinji said he had a friend waiting with him but I didn’t even pay attention when I walked in. Thank you for sitting him with, Ulquiorra.”

_ A friend. _ The thought makes Ulquiorra smile. “Not a problem. I was happy to do it. Take him home and take care of him, though, he’s been having a pretty bad morning.”

“Aren’t I just the luckiest man alive, having so many beautiful men worried after my well-being?” Shinji presses the back of his hand to his forehead, swooning dramatically in his seat before he sits up once more. “Tell me how things go, Ulquiorra. If anything improves. I’m pulling for everyone to walk out of this satisfied with the choices they made.”

_ Satisfied _ is a better word choice than  _ happy, _ Ulquiorra thinks. “I will. And thank you, again.”

He catches a bus to Grimmjow’s gym, texting him a few minutes before he arrives so he can know to tell Zommari he’s going on lunch for real. As soon as he steps through the doors, Grimmjow is there to embrace him, arms wrapping tight around him and pulling him in close, face pressed to the top of his head. He smells like sweat and musk and usually Ulquiorra gives him hell for it, but for now he leans into the embrace and hugs Grimmjow back. It’s been a long time since he’s come to see him at work; he wishes it was over something happier.

“I’m sorry,” Grimmjow whispers against his forehead before leaning back to look down at him. “It’s been a fucking awful day. Bazz keeps texting me to apologize.”

“It’s not even his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.” He feels bad for dragging Bazz into this.

Grimmjow smiles softly and nods, drawing Ulquiorra further into the building; he waves at a few familiar faces as he goes, knowing all the names and faces because he’s been with Grimmjow enough to learn everyone. Tesla points to one of his fingers and then makes a circle with his forefinger and thumb; Ulquiorra smiles at the congratulations on the engagement. And remembers that Aizen found out from Bazz. Ulquiorra didn’t even get to tell him.

It’s not Bazz’s fault. It’s just more evidence of how fucked up all of this is.

“We need to talk to them about this all, obviously. See where everyone really stands.” Grimmjow sits down at one of the tables in the common area of the gym, the bento Ulquiorra made him this morning sat in front of him. “But we need to talk about it with each other first.”

Ulquiorra nods. “So we know where we stand walking into this conversation.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to get there and end up fighting with each other because we have different thoughts about this. I want us to be a united front because.” Grimmjow takes Ulquiorra’s hand, brushes his thumb over the diamond in the ring. “Aizen would put Byakuya before us, and I’m putting you before them. You mean more to me than they do. That’s just how it is.”

“I feel the same way about you.” He’s relieved to hear Grimmjow say that even though he’s always known it was the truth. How could Grimmjow ever care about them half as much, and still ask Ulquiorra to marry him, after all? “If everything fell apart, as long as I walked away from it all holding your hand, I’d be able to move on and get through it.”

“Is that how you would have felt if things blew up with your exes?” Grimmjow asks him, and the question startles him, coming out of nowhere. “If Orihime left with you, I mean.”

_ Of course that’s what you mean. _ “No. Because I love you more than I loved her. I could walk away from her even if it broke me. I could never just walk away from you.”

Something about his words has Grimmjow’s eyes glittering and he nods, leaning across the table to give Ulquiorra a soft kiss. “Not to be a fucking asshole about this, but that’s so good to hear. That you love me that much. I love you, too. So fucking much.”

“Do you want children.” Ulquiorra says it as firmly, as deadpan as he possibly can.

Grimmjow sighs softly and sets his chopsticks down, tilting his head back as if he’s considering the notion. Considering they’ve never talked about it, it must not be easy to try to wrap his mind around it. “Honestly? I’d love to have a family with you. But not right now. This shit with Starrk is going to take up a lot of time. I’m gonna be under a lot of stress making sure I don’t fuck up with him, so I don’t really have the energy to expend on a child right now.”

“I feel similarly. I want children with you one day, too, but not right now. It’s just not a good time for us.” So that’s… Settled. Ulquiorra isn’t surprised at Grimmjow’s answer, not at all. He’d only agreed once Ulquiorra had. “Could you live with telling Byakuya no?”

“No. I couldn’t. I know that without even having to think about it. He wants Rukia so bad and if we told him no, he’d never really forgive us for it even if he said he did.” Grimmjow is quiet as he eats a few bites, making only a few small content noises that Ulquiorra smiles at the sound of. Maybe he’s going to be Grimmjow’s house husband after all. “So that’s the impasse.”

Ulquiorra nods, opening his mouth when Grimmjow offers him a piece of fish. “This is what we’re going to have to talk about. If we can’t come up with a solution… Then it’s over.”

“Yeah. And we just. We walk away, no matter how hard that is for us.” Grimmjow nods slowly, then takes Ulquiorra’s hand in his once more. “As long as I walk away with you, it’s okay.”

Ulquiorra squeezes his hand in silent agreement. “So, tell me more about Starrk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote most of this chapter listening to "citizen radio" by egypt central so you can thank them for extra sad shinji.


	35. an ending and a beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
> **sexual content:** allusions to the act, nothing more

The house Aizen and Byakuya share is an impressive structure from the outside and Grimmjow sighs as he parks in their wide driveway, eyes fixed on the front door and the conversation he knows is waiting beyond it. After giving themselves a few days to decompress after the worst morning of their lives, probably, he and Ulquiorra contacted Aizen to let him know they all needed to sit down and have a serious conversation. After a few days of radio silence, the request probably terrified him. Grimmjow hopes it did, savagely and bitterly. It’s the least he can deal with in order to suffer even half as much as Ulquiorra did on that phone call.

Maybe he should be over that by now, but Grimmjow can be spiteful where Ulquiorra is concerned and the fact of the matter is, Ulquiorra was wandering out in the cold because of this mess. Had what should have been a great morning ruined for him because Aizen was being selfish and unnecessarily rude. Sure, it makes sense. Grimmjow gets it. In his shoes, he would have put himself and Ulquiorra first, too; it’s why he bit Aizen’s head off on the way to work.

“Hey.” Ulquiorra’s hand comes to rest on his arm and Grimmjow exhales slowly, telling himself to relax for the conversation coming. “Are you sure about this? We can go home if you want to.”

“No, I’m sure about this. We have to talk to them and get this all ironed out, right?” Grimmjow looks into those beautiful green eyes he’d woken up to this morning. The eyes he wants to wake up to every morning for the rest of his life.

Ulquiorra bites his lip but nods. “Yeah. We have a problem and we have to fix it instead of letting months of resentment pile up and then someone storms off to the train station.”

The self-deprecating tone of his voice has Grimmjow unbuckling his seatbelt so he can lean across the center of the car, his arms slipping around Ulquiorra’s shoulders. “Hey, that’s not going to happen. I’d never resent you, and I’m not going to let you walk away.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest in the small of Grimmjow’s back, the small touch enough to make Grimmjow feel giddy because it’s the same hand with the ring. Is he ever going to get tired of it? He really doesn’t think so. “So, we should go inside.”

“We should,” Grimmjow agrees, but he doesn’t want to let Ulquiorra go.

He thinks Ulquiorra has figured it out, too, based on the way his face softens. “Let’s go inside and have this conversation and figure out where we go from here.”

“Yeah.” Grimmjow sighs, leans over and kisses Ulquiorra. “Let’s do it.”

Byakuya answers the door and the expression on his face is carefully polite as he looks between the two of them; he doesn’t offer a hug or a kiss, which is probably for the best considering Grimmjow doesn’t exactly feel like he’s in an affectionate mood right now. Even though Byakuya wasn’t the one on the phone, Nozarashi is his band to manage and Grimmjow is sure that Byakuya is probably just as upset with them for sleeping with Bazz as Aizen was on the phone. But his face still lights up when he sees Ulquiorra’s hand.

“Congratulations,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. Unlike  _ someone _ . “That’s a beautiful ring, Grimmjow, it really suits him. How long did it take you to pop the question?”

“A year or so.” He tries to relax the stiffness in his voice; no use in starting a fight just inside the door. “And thanks. I thought I’d end up ripping my hair out trying to pick one out for him.”

“You did a lovely job.” Byakuya touches his shoulder, a fleeting gesture before he closes the front door. “Sosuke and Renji are waiting in the kitchen to talk. Would you like something to drink? They’re both having coffee but it wouldn’t be difficult to brew tea.”

“Tea would be nice,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow takes his hand and holds onto it firmly.

Aizen and Renji are, in fact, sitting at the table when they step into the room, and Byakuya busies himself with tea while Grimmjow and Ulquiorra sit down across from them. The pressure in the room is heavy considering everything that’s happened and Grimmjow almost feels bad for Renji, who doesn’t really have a part in any of the drama but is getting roped into it just the same because of the circumstances. This is an all or nothing conversation.

When Byakuya has given Ulquiorra his cup of tea and sits down, Aizen breaks the silence. “I owe both of you an apology. Neither of you did anything wrong. You handled a situation that could have reflected badly on Byakuya and I very well, and it did not get out to the press. So thank you for that. But I spoke poorly to you, Ulquiorra, and that was my mistake.”

“It was,” Ulquiorra agrees, and Grimmjow hides a smile at how firm his fiance sounds in this. “It’s been days and still, no one knows. So we did a very good job, after all.”

Slowly, Aizen nods and spreads his hands across the table, palms up. “I overreacted because Rukia was here at the house with us, and I thought that becoming news might have hurt our chances at adopting her. That was my mistake, and I’m sorry. You both deserve the benefit of the doubt in a situation like this, You’re my partners. I could afford you more courtesy.”

“Bazz deserves an apology too,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow nods in agreement; they’ve discussed that ahead of time, too. “You were rude to him on the phone over something stupid. I punished him for his mistake while you were busy here at home not answering your phone, and Halibel was fine with that. You don’t get to step in and get mad at him, too.”

“I was angry with him over a business-related reason, not a personal one. As his public relations agent, I had a right to be upset with him for missing a meeting,” Aizen says, his voice mild.

But Ulquiorra shakes his head. “I heard your tone over the phone. You were being an asshole.”

“You don’t need to be fucking mean about stuff like this. I’ve been a fan of the band for a long time. They  _ all _ pull stunts like this from time to time.” Grimmjow knows this just as well as Aizen does, or does Aizen think he’s forgotten how things work? He certainly hasn’t. There have been plenty of social media excuses that he knows might be cover for something else now. “Were you upset with him over what he did, or was it because Rukia was here at the house?”

The question is not a fair one; the set of Aizen’s jaw and the way Byakuya sighs tell him that. “You have made a correct assertion, Grimmjow. Rukia being in the house did not elicit a proper response from me, and I lashed out. I will apologize to Bazz the next time we speak.”

“Rukia was in the house,” Ulquiorra says. “You both want to adopt her. All  _ three _ of you do.”

Byakuya inclines his head slowly. “That’s true. We’ve had that conversation already, so you know how true it is. Why are you bringing it up yet again? Do you have an answer for me?”

“That’s not what he’s saying. Even without his answer, you’re still making plans, aren’t you? Because you expect him to say yes.” When none of them speak, Grimmjow sighs. So Ulquiorra had been right when they talked last night; they really  _ were _ having their intentions ignored.

Aizen drops his head down into his hands. “It’s not an ideal situation. We’d already worked out that he wanted children before we met you two. Hisana used to tell Byakuya that she wished he could have been her brother, that he could have taken care of her. The situation… We can’t just let her go. I know that might not work out for the two of you, but—”

“It doesn’t,” Ulquiorra says. The room falls silent instantly.

Renji clears his throat. “So you guys really don’t want a kid after all, huh?”

“Not now,” Ulquiorra clarifies, “not when we’re not ready to have one. And quite frankly, not when all of us aren’t good at communicating with each other. It wouldn’t be fair to the child. She doesn’t deserve to have parents who can’t talk to each other openly and honestly and have the conversations that are hard to have. I don’t need to meet her to know she deserves better.”

Byakuya’s expression is pained. “I thought you were going to meet her, Ulquiorra.”

“I agreed to, but thinking on it, that’s just a very subtle trick on your part, isn’t it? That it’d be harder for me to say no if I met her. I can’t even blame you for trying it.” Ulquiorra takes a sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving Byakuya’s face. “You want her. She’s practically yours in your eyes, and I can’t fault you for thinking that way. I wouldn’t ask you to let her go for me.”

“But I told you I wasn’t going to put her before all of you. That it wouldn’t be fair. Yes, we want children, but…” Byakuya shakes his head. “Not if it means losing both of you right now.”

Grimmjow knew it was going to be hard when they walked in the door, but hearing Byakuya say it like that makes his chest hurt. “And you’d never forgive us if we made you let her go.”

“Why do you insist on saying that I can’t forgive you for it? I knew you might say no when we sat down to talk about it in the first place. I  _ knew _ that and I still told you that I wouldn’t fault you for the decisions you make.” Byakuya’s voice is strained, wounded. He doesn’t like this.

Not that Grimmjow can blame him. None of them like it.

“You would, though. You’d hate us for it.” Ulquiorra sets his mug back down, folds his hands neatly in his lap. “She’s your daughter, Byakuya. You should choose her over us. You should always put your child first. I think part of you knows that. I think that’s why you keep making these plans even though I just now told you that I don’t want kids right now.”

Renji’s hand moves to squeeze Byakuya’s shoulder the moment Byakuya folds in on himself, face stricken. “Why are you two doing this? I don’t understand. I thought things were fine. Yeah, the shit with Bazz happened, but we can get past that. Sosuke apologized and everything.”

“That doesn’t magically make all of this okay,” Grimmjow reminds him, and Renji winces and looks down and away. “This conversation fucking sucks and no one wants to have it. Doesn’t that right there tell you that we’re not suited for taking care of a child?”

Aizen’s voice is low, so quiet that Grimmjow has to strain to hear him. “If you’re doing this because of what I did, then please don’t. Don’t leave us because of me. I know I was in the wrong. I know I made a mistake. But I don’t want to lose you two because of it.”

“It’s not about you,” Ulquiorra tells him, and his voice is so open, and so honest, that Grimmjow doesn’t know how they can possibly doubt his words. “You want a family. I understand that. And you have a chance to have it right now, with a child you already have a connection with. YOu shouldn’t wait to do that. You should adopt Rukia the second you have the option.”

“And lose both of you in the process,” Byakuya murmurs, dragging a hand across his face.

In answer, Grimmjow shrugs. “It is what it is. We’re the new ones in the relationship. It’s… You don’t have to make allowances for us like that. You shouldn’t. We’re standing in each other’s way and I can’t think of a better way to just fix all of this except to stop doing that. Can you?”

“So you just want us to let you two go and pretend none of this ever happened?” Aizen shakes his head and Grimmjow can hear it in his voice, the slight quiver there. “I don’t understand. No, I  _ can’t _ understand. We’ve had a rough time lately, ever since this subject came up. But we were there for each other. We talked things out. We supported Ulquiorra through a difficult time and now you just want to throw that away? I thought this meant something to you.”

Ulquiorra presses his lips together before sighing softly. “Please don’t use my past in this conversation. You were all lovely to me about it, but frankly, the conversation got us absolutely nowhere if you’re still making plans to adopt Rukia even when I hadn’t given you an answer.”

“That’s fair,” Byakuya says. “Because you’re right. It’s not fair to you that we did all of this anyway, that we had her here and were thinking about how it could be like that forever. And then Sosuke was angry with you for possibly ruining the chance for us even though you still hadn’t said yes. But Ulquiorra… I thought you two were happy with us.”

“We were. Which is what makes this so hard.” Grimmjow squeezes Ulquiorra’s shoulder when his fiance’s voice breaks just a little at the end, watching him struggle to keep his facial expression under control. “We were happy. But you’re not going to be happy with no as an answer. You’re not going to be happy without Rukia. Which means this just can’t go on.”

“How is this any different from what happened with your exes? You  _ told _ me, Ulquiorra, that you were afraid we’d just get bored of you and leave you, but you’re just. You’re leaving us.” Renji’s voice quivers and Grimmjow watches a hand dart up to hide the wetness in his eyes.

But there it is, bringing that up again. “Stop it,” Grimmjow says, folding his arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders, protecting him. He  _ has _ to. Goddamn it,  _ someone _ does. “If you bring them up one more time, we’re out of there. How fucking… Renji, this isn’t like that at all. We thought really long and hard about this. What was going to happen? Were you just going to support Byakuya through all of his misery until we were ready to have kids? When he didn’t know what happened to Rukia? What was going to happen when all that resentment finally came to a head in a few years’ time? It always does. You  _ know _ that. I know you know that.”

“So we’re just expected to let you two go without even trying.” Aizen sounds so  _ defeated _ and now Grimmjow can see the tears glimmering in his beautiful brown eyes. The same gorgeous, warm gaze that held him captivated and made him feel so safe in his submission.

It doesn’t matter, though. He knows that. As much as it aches, as much as his heart feels ready to shatter in his chest, shards sharp enough to slice his ribs, he knows he has to do this. It’s for the best for all of them. “There’s nothing you can do to keep us here. Not now.”

“How is this fair!” Byakuya shoves himself away from the table so suddenly that Grimmjow isn’t expecting it. Not from him. Not with his iron control. “Because of Rukia? You’re leaving because of her? She’s a  _ darling _ young girl and you’d both love her. You loved Yachiru, I don’t see why this has to be so different. I don’t see why you can’t stay.”

“Yachiru is Kenpachi’s daughter and she’s wonderful, but she was a guest here. Easy to placate and take care of,” Ulquiorra says, voice low and cajoling. “But Rukia would be different. Even if we don’t live here, we’d see her often. If we didn’t ask about her, you’d be mad at us for not caring enough. There’s no way that this can work out where she’s in your life and we are, too. It’s not a future for us. I don’t see why that’s so hard to wrap your mind around.”

Aizen laughs, the sound wet and desperate. “Because we  _ want _ you in our lives. We want you to be a part of our future. We had no idea this was the direction this conversation was going in. I thought you’d bite my head off for yelling at you and then we’d make up and things would be okay. I never expected… But maybe I should have. You’re… I hate this. But you aren’t wrong.”

“Sosuke!” Byakuya rounds on him, eyes wide, mouth open. “You can’t be serious. I know you better than this.  _ You _ were the one who wanted them first. How can you let them go?”

“Because they’re right. Our beautiful, selfless boys are trying so hard to give us the life we always wanted for ourselves because they’ve realized we can’t have everything.” Aizen sniffles, quickly wiping away a tear before it can fall. Struggling for his composure. “It hurts, because it only makes me love them more. To know they’d go this far for us. Because they’re telling the truth, my love. If we lost Rukia, we’d never get over that. You know that as well as I do.”

“So what’s the fucking alternative? We just let them go?” Renji leans across the table, his eyes burning. “We just let you two go? Never see you again? Try to live our lives like you aren’t just out there, living yours? How the fuck does that work? I couldn’t. I could never do that.”

Ulquiorra lowers his head, long lashes shielding his eyes. “I’ve done it. It’s not easy. I would never pretend that it was easy. I slept on a friend’s couch knowing every night that I couldn’t get to sleep, they were in bed together. Probably happier that I was gone.”

“We aren’t going to be fucking happy about it!” Renji is gone, then, storming out of the back door in lieu of the awful weather, Byakuya hurrying after him.

Leaving just the three of them sitting at the table. Aizen on one side, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra on the other. Like at Hueco Mundo, though there were no tears then.

“So you’ve decided and you came to tell us that. Putting all of our needs upfront and realizing that we aren’t well-suited to each other is very mature of both of you, and very painful. And yet you did it anyway.” Aizen uses the sleeve of his sweater to blot his eyes. Ulquiorra does the same, but Grimmjow… Is fine, for now. He’ll cry later, at home, with his face pressed into Ulquiorra’s stomach when it’s quiet. “And I can’t change your mind on this? Not with anything?”

Ulquiorra shakes his head, and when he inhales, the sound is shuddering and wet. “No. Because you have your life, and you need to live it. We need to live ours. And our futures are different right now. I want you to have Rukia in your life. But we can’t be fathers to her.”

“Very understandable. I wouldn’t push you to be.” Aizen presses his hand to his mouth, eyes squeezed shut, and Grimmjow tries hard to ignore the way his heart lurches when Aizen sobs softly against his palm. He doesn’t want them to leave. Grimmjow doesn’t  _ want _ to leave either, but… He has to. They can’t play these games anymore, and he knows that better than anyone. “I c-can’t ask you to do something that it’s not possible to do. Children should be wanted from the moment you conceive the idea of having them. There is no room for doubt, not really. Either you do, or you don’t. There isn’t a grey area, not in this.”

Grimmjow clears his throat, rubbing his hand up and down Ulquiorra’s arm; he can hear Renji in the backyard, shouting something. He’s just upset. He has every right to be upset. “Right. And we don’t want kids. It’s not even a maybe, maybe not. It’s just… Ulquiorra said yes because you want kids. I went along with him. I should have objected, but I didn’t.”

“It’s not your fault.” Ulquiorra’s voice is thick and Grimmjow turns, pressing a kiss to his dark hair.  _ I’m so tired of putting you in positions where you cry. _ “I shouldn’t have said yes. Sosuke, please tell Byakuya I’m sorry about all of this. For making him wait for a decision I couldn’t even end up making until it led to this. I don’t think he’s coming back into the house.”

Aizen glances over his shoulder, then shakes his head slowly and stands. “He and Renji are probably arguing. I’m going to close the back door to keep the cold air out.”

While he does that, Grimmjow tightens himself around Ulquiorra, resisting the urge to just climb into his fiance’s lap and hold him as tight as he can until they can leave. Fuck, he just wants to leave right now, take Ulquiorra home and dry his tears and fix the pain so that he doesn’t have to listen to the small hiccuping noises Ulquiorra makes when he cries.

Before they’d gotten involved with Aizen, Ulquiorra rarely cried. At movies and books sometimes, but never over something like this. Never over fights, and they’d never  _ had _ serious fights like the one they had after Ulquiorra talked to Bazz. It’s not kind to think this way but maybe leaving this behind is going to give them a future where Ulquiorra smiles more often.

Grimmjow can live with that. He’d climb fucking mountains to make it a reality at this point.

Instead of sitting back down at the table, Aizen stands, looking uncertain on his feet. “It would be unfair to ask you to stay any longer. I just. I don’t want to impose, but. It’s the child thing, isn’t it? None of us hurt you in such a way that there’s no mending it? I couldn’t live with myself if I let you leave knowing I’d hurt you and never apologized or tried to fix it.”

“No. It’s the child thing. It sounds like a small thing, but it’s a huge, life-altering decision we just aren’t ready to make yet.” Grimmjow takes Ulquiorra’s hand in his, holds it up so Aizen can see. “This is the choice we just made. We’re taking it slower than you, maybe, but it’s what makes us happy. And having Rukia will make you happy. I can already tell that much.”

“But not having the two of you in my life anymore will make me unhappy.” Aizen wipes at his eyes again and shakes his head. “I just want you to know that. I don’t want to guilt you into staying because you’re right. This is a massive choice, and if you aren’t ready, then you’re not. But I want you to know that I love you both. And that I will miss you when you walk out the door.”

Ulquiorra lifts his head just a little, and Grimmjow thinks that maybe Aizen has done more with those words than he can ever imagine. “Thank you, Sosuke. We’ll miss you, too. We really enjoyed the time we spent together, and we love you. We love all of you.”

“We do,” Grimmjow agrees, because it’s the truth. There’s no reason to lie about this, no reason to bloat the truth now that they’re leaving. Now that it’s real. “And we want you to be happy. It hurts right now but it’s for the right reasons. You know that.”

“I do.” Aizen smiles through the tears, through the grimace of pain on his face. “My sweet boys, my darlings. You really surprised even me in the end. Can I walk you to the door?”

Grimmjow breathes a sigh of relief at the question and nods, standing, keeping his arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders so his fiance has an anchor, someone to lean on as they walk through the living room one last time. They haven’t even been to the house that many times, not really, not in the grand scheme of things but that makes it easier. It doesn’t feel like a home they’re leaving behind, not really. Not more than Aizen himself already does.

Fuck, it hurts. It  _ burns _ but it’s the right thing to do. Grimmjow knows it is.

At the door, Aizen pauses. “Just a hug goodbye, perhaps? I’m trying not to make this worse than it already is, but if this is the last time I’m seeing you, I want one last good thing.”

“A hug is fine.” Ulquiorra steps out from under Grimmjow’s arm. “But just a hug. Nothing more.”

He stands on his toes to give Aizen a better hug, wraps his arms around his shoulders and lets Aizen cling to him for a moment. Grimmjow can hear the way Ulquiorra cries, the fact that such a small gesture is enough to hurt him more, dig the blade in his heart just a little deeper, twist it maybe. It’s awful to see, to think about. When Ulquiorra finally steps away, Grimmjow leans in to give Aizen his goodbye hug, smoothes a hand up and down Aizen’s back.

With his lips next to Aizen’s ear, he gives him the last thing he can possibly think to. “Thank you for trusting me. I’m always going to value the fact you put your faith in me.”

“Of course, Grimmjow.” Aizen’s voice trembles, so fragile. “Thank you for not betraying it. For respecting me, and my body, and my boundaries until the very end.”

When he steps out of Aizen’s arms, he reaches for Ulquiorra’s hand and holds it tight in his own. The walk to the car feels abnormally long, and longer still when Ulquiorra heaves, broken noises leaving his throat that threaten to claw their way into Grimmjow’s brain to arise only during his nightmares. Fuck, he can’t do this. He can’t listen to Ulquiorra cry like this.

The image in his head hurts more than he can possibly fathom. Ulquiorra sitting at a train station, these same broken and painful noises leaving his throat, spilling from his lips like a plea for help, and no one there to take care of him. No one there to hold him or comfort him. No one there to wipe the tears away and promise him everything would be okay if he just got through it. But he’s not alone now. He’s never going to be alone again.

Grimmjow has the grace to get out of the driveway and the neighborhood, parking on the side of the road before he hauls Ulquiorra out of his seat and into his arms. “I’ve got you, Quiorra.”

“It hurts.” Ulquiorra clings to him, and he’s shaking. He’s trembling and cold and crying and Grimmjow has never felt so broken up over something in his life. “It hurts so fucking much. I know we had to. I  _ know _ we had to but I feel so fucking awful about it.”

“I know, baby. I know.” It’s all he can say. That, and wrestling his way out of his jacket so he can wrap it around Ulquiorra, trying to rub some warmth back into his numb fingers.

He  _ hates _ seeing Ulquiorra cry. He hates seeing his eyes bloodshot and rimmed in red, such a stark contrast to his beautiful green eyes. He hates seeing those eyes magnified by tears, hates the tracks left behind as Ulquiorra’s pale face turns blotchy and red. Not that he cares if Ulquiorra  _ needs _ to cry because he isn’t a fucking  _ monster _ but he’s so used to Ulquiorra smiling, or his stoic expressions. This hurts. This rips at him in a way nothing else does, a visceral stab of pain in his gut because his fiance is in agony and he can’t make it stop.

Letting it run its course, holding Ulquiorra until the sobbing stops and he quiets, soft little hiccups and gulps of air, feels wrong. It feels like he failed somewhere along the way at the most basic thing in the world: taking care of the man he loves with all of his heart.

“I’m not gonna leave you. You know that, right?” Grimmjow slips his fingers under Ulquiorra’s chin once he’s quiet, tilting his head up so their eyes meet. “I meant it when I said I wanted to marry you. That my future’s with you. I wanna be by you every step of the way.”

Ulquiorra closes his eyes, leaning into Grimmjow’s touch, lips parting softly under a sigh of what sounds like relief. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I do now.” He kisses him, soft and sweet and gentle. “Maybe I don’t get it entirely, but I know it means a lot to you. And I’ll say it every day if that’s what you need to hear.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’d do that for me.” Ulquiorra’s fingers comb through his hair and Grimmjow purrs, leaning forward so their foreheads touch, their lips hovering close together but not quite touching. “I still want to get professional help. To work through all my issues with what’s going on. There’s a lot, but… I’ve got someone who’ll stand by me and help me when I need it, so I think it won’t be that bad after all.”

Grimmjow kisses him again for good measure. “I’ll even drive you to every appointment I can if you want me to. You tell me what you need, and it’s yours. It’s always been yours.”

“I love you.” Ulquiorra initiates the kiss this time, lets it linger soft and warm against Grimmjow’s lips. “Now let’s go home. I just want to curl up on the couch and rest.”

That is definitely a sentiment Grimmjow can support.

The apartment is quiet when they step inside and change into something more comfortable; Grimmjow finds his oldest, warmest hoodie and pulls it over Ulquiorra’s head, kissing him through his messy hair and smiling when Ulquiorra giggles up at him. It’s a start, he thinks, and then he kisses him again, brushing his hair back out of his eyes, curling his fingers in it and pulling Ulquiorra closer to him. They can get through this together.

There’s still a dull ache between his ribs but comforting Ulquiorra has taken the edge off of it, like having Ulquiorra in his arms was enough to head some of it off. When they finally drop down on the couch together, Grimmjow pillowing his head on Ulquiorra’s thighs, the tears he expects don’t come. Maybe it’ll take time for it to sink in; maybe he’s steeling himself to be the support system Ulquiorra needs for now. Either way is fine with him.

When he falls apart, Ulquiorra is going to be there to catch him. He’s confident about that.

“I want to get you an engagement ring to match mine,” Ulquiorra tells him, breaking the small silence between them. “It feels wrong for me to be the only one who has one. I want everyone who looks at you to know you’re my fiance, too.”

The thought makes Grimmjow smile and he looks up into Ulquiorra’s eyes. “Yeah? Okay then. We can go to the jeweller I went to for yours. Maybe we can get them to match.”

“That’d be lovely. A matching set.” Ulquiorra’s fingers are so warm on his cheek, drifting up to stroke through his hair. It feels amazing when it’s him, it always does. “Also, I… Maybe this is a bad time to mention it, but if you still want to do BDSM things, we can do them here. Together. Or try a different club, if you want. I really enjoyed having a chance to dominate you.”

Oh. He hadn’t considered that aspect of things, and maybe he should have given they were at Las Noches to learn more about BDSM to begin with. “Let’s just keep it between us for now. Maybe a club later down the line, but… It was nice just in the bedroom, too.”

“I agree.” Ulquiorra sighs, lets his head fall back against the back of the couch. “It’s been a long day. I knew that conversation was going to take a lot out of me, but I wasn’t ready for it. Do you want to order takeout tonight? I don’t think I’m much in the mood to cook.”

“Me either.” Grimmjow twists around to pick up his phone, thinking Chinese sounds about the right amount of carbs when Ulquiorra’s phone chimes a familiar tune. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Ulquiorra stares at his phone, debating. “Should we answer him, or let him go to voicemail? I don’t know if I can handle the energy right now.”

Grimmjow picks up the phone and answers it instead. “Hey, Bazz. What’s up?”

_ “Oh, hey Grimm. I didn’t expect to get you. I was just wondering if the two of you are okay and all, I know… I kinda fucked up some things for you. I’m sorry.” _ Bazz sounds not at all like himself right now, quiet and genuinely remorseful, almost enough that—

“Have you talked to someone recently? Like maybe in the last half an hour?” Grimmjow asks.

Bazz is quiet for a moment, then,  _ “Kind of. Ken told me the least I could do was call and let Byakuya know that Zabimaru was a go for our next tour, but Byakuya didn’t answer.” _

“What’s going on?” Ulquiorra asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

With gentle fingers, Grimmjow smoothes the spot back down. “Bazz tried to call Byakuya to let him know Renji’s band can be on the tour with Nozarashi and didn’t get an answer. He’s calling to ask us if he fucked up monumentally.”

_ “That’s not all that happened,” _ Bazz murmurs, and Grimmjow stops, holding a finger to his lips to let Ulquiorra know the conversation is not over.  _ “I figured I’d call Aizen since he’s never that far from Renji these days anyway and he answered and he sounded off. And then he apologized to me and said that Quiorra opened his eyes to the mistake he made.” _

“You told… The apology. You wanted,” Grimmjow says. It feels wrong to say Aizen’s name.

Ulquiorra’s expression softens. “Put it on speaker so Bazz can hear what I have to say.”

“Got it, baby.” Grimmjow hits the button, clears his throat. “Bazz, you’re on speaker and Quiorra wants to talk to you on his own now. Listen up, it’s important.”

_ “Of course,” _ Bazz says, but he sounds nervous as fuck just the same.

“I told Sosuke he owed you an apology for the way he spoke to you on my phone. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m glad he took me at my word.” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft and cajoling, obviously trying to calm Bazz down. He can tell he’s upset then, too. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Bazz. We had a very serious discussion and we’ve decided that Grimmjow and I are going to continue as a couple. On our own. Independent of what happened with us at Las Noches. It came down to a much more serious issue than that.”

_ “Shit. I’m sorry.” _ The discomfort on the other end of the line is palpable; Grimmjow could fake the phone just cutting off to ease the tension because he can tell Bazz doesn’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore.  _ “Did you two get home okay? I know it’s not a long drive, but the roads aren’t exactly the greatest right now. Do you need anything?” _

Oh. Or maybe he’s just concerned and is trying to check up on them now.

Ulquiorra’s smile is soft and fond, and the way he shakes his head makes Grimmjow grin in return. “We’re just fine, Bazz. We’re going to order something to eat and have a night in. Thank you for asking after us, though. It’s very sweet of you to do that.”

Another long pause on the other end of the line.  _ “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore because the sex might have made things awkward or because I work with your exes but like… Does this mean that we don’t get to see each other anymore?” _

_ Cute, _ Grimmjow thinks despite himself.  _ Really fucking pathetically cute. _

But Ulquiorra takes his time in answering. “Your working relationship with them has no bearing on our personal friendships, that much I can promise you. If it makes things awkward later down the road, we can revisit the issue. But the sex was fine, we’re all adults. It didn’t make things hard on us or anything. It’s just… It’s been a very long day for both of us.”

_ “Yeah. Yeah! I’m sorry for making it about me. I just figured maybe what happened made things harder or something, I dunno but it’s not about me. It’s about you.” _ Bazz sounds a lot warmer through the phone now and Grimmjow hums softly, pleased at the change. Better for their friends not to get caught in the crossfire of this.  _ “You still there, Grimm?” _

“I’m here,” he confirms, pulling the phone a little closer to his mouth.

Bazz laughs.  _ “Cool, cool. Just. I’m glad you’re both okay. When you’re feeling better, dinner on me at Giselle’s. But take all the time you need and I hope you’re both okay.” _

“We are, Bazz, thank you.” Ulquiorra says his goodbyes, then hangs up the phone. “He’s sweet. I wouldn’t have expected that from someone like him, but he’s really got it in him, huh?”

“He does. I’m glad you’ve got him as a friend. Or I guess we now, but still.” Grimmjow is maybe just a little giddy at the thought, that one of his musical idols is a friend now. That he wants to take them out to dinner sometime and pay for it. They’ll have to take him up on that for real. “And I just… I’m glad I got you. Out of all of this, I’m glad you’re still here.”

Ulquiorra is quiet as he sets his cell phone down, though he nods his head a little in assent, his voice a gentle murmur. “I’m glad that if this has to end, you’re still in my arms.”

That more than anything else is what finally has Grimmjow breaking down properly, but he doesn’t passively lie in Ulquiorra’s lap and let it all out. Instead he’s pushing himself up, his hands sliding up into Ulquiorra’s hair to pull him close. Small, desperate kisses pressed against his soft lips, still slightly salty with the tang of his own tears, break up the choked noises that keep trying to make their way up his throat. Ulquiorra’s fingers close around his wrists, keeping him close, grounding him. The one he always comes back to in the end.

“Easy, Grimm.” Ulquiorra kisses a tear off of his cheek. “Breathe, baby. Let it out as much as you want but please remember to breathe, too.”

“I just. It hurts. It fucking hurts so much but you’re still here.” It’s not pain so much as it is gratitude. That if it had to hurt, if he had to experience that same suffering Ulquiorra did all those years ago, he’s not going through it alone. He has someone so impossibly strong right here next to him. Someone who loves him. “You’re still here and you still love me.”

“Of course I do. How could I ever stop?” Ulquiorra seems genuinely perplexed and Grimmjow just laughs softly through the tears and kisses him over and over, pulling him up and into his lap.

He doesn’t know how they get up the stairs, not quite willing to unattach their lips for more than a few seconds, a few breaths of precious oxygen before they’re at it again. By the top of the steps, Grimmjow gets frustrated altogether and just picks Ulquiorra up and carries him to bed, almost running himself into the bedroom door frame in the process. But it’s fine because the way Ulquiorra looks up at him from their bed makes everything in his chest expand until his ribs feel too small, the space inside of them not large enough for how much he loves this man.

And he does love him. More than anything in the world, Grimmjow loves Ulquiorra.

They take it slow and tender, undressing each other with care, hands exploring each other like the first night all over again when Grimmjow was sure he’d captured starlight in his hands and needed to be as careful as possible so as not to drop it. Ulquiorra is more confident now than he was then, more sure of himself. Sure of their love, of the continuation of the bond they have with one another, of the fact he’s not going to end up hurting like he did before.

As if Grimmjow could ever leave him. As if he’d ever want a life without Ulquiorra in it.

Orgasms make Ulquiorra drowsy and he falls asleep not long after, his cheek pillowed on Grimmjow’s bicep, long lashes casting dark shadows on his cheekbones. Breathing slow and easy. There are still tear tracks to dry entirely, still blotches to fade away. But there’s also still a ring on his finger, and Grimmjow is still lying next to him, his other arm curled around Ulquiorra protectively as he presses a soft and lingering kiss to Ulquiorra’s forehead.

Both of them are still here. And that’s all Grimmjow needs to go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you guys the second to last chapter would have an extremely long comment attached to the bottom of it, so this is that comment. the last chapter, the epilogue, will have a note as well, just of a different variety. this is just to let you guys kind of understand what i'm going to be trying out in the month of december.
> 
> i have a few works in progress so i'm going to attempt an update schedule for them, updating them once a week and on a certain rhythm so that i can work on all of them, don't feel bogged down or uninspired at any point, and can just in general get more of each of them done. a lot of those works in progress are bleach-related. if you read my other bleach content, namely simply and my sanctuary, then those are two of the ones i'm talking about.
> 
> of course, one of these is also going to be the sequel to this story. i'm not going to throw myself headlong into it the way i did with this story. i turned what was a marathon into a sprint at the end of the month and as immensely fun as it's been, it's also kicking my ass. i want to take more time with the sequel, and it's going to have more details and more points of view to juggle. you're going to see more of aizen, byakuya, and renji. no worries. you're going to see more of bazz, so i hope you guys found a way around to liking him.
> 
> you're going to see ulquiorra's ex-partners. i hope you're ready for that.
> 
> i'll leave this note there, and as for this chapter, oh i am so sorry for the pain i've caused all of you. i know it hurts. i personally didn't plan this story out too much more than a few hours here and there in my head at work. there was no outline; it was very organic, and it came as it desired. as such, i couldn't necessarily see this coming. i knew this inevitable end was heading in this direction, though. i feel bad for implying in comment replies that things would be fine when i knew they wouldn't be, but it felt like rude spoiling to imply otherwise.
> 
> i hope you'll follow grimmjow and ulquiorra into their future together.
> 
> one more chapter after this, guys. let's hit 200k together.


	36. new neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** none
> 
>  **sexual content:** none

When Bazzard Black walked into Aizen and Byakuya’s house on that fateful winter day, he had no way of knowing it was going to change his life.

That might be dramatic, but Bazz thrives on drama. It must be why he and Yumichika clicked faster than he had with any of the other members of Nozarashi, why Bazz is still the one Yumichika leans on to this day when the self-doubt threatens to cripple and break him. But as he waits for Grimmjow and Ulquiorra to join him at Giselle’s diner, listening to Giselle hum and Bambietta sing along to the radio, he feels like this could be the beginning of something beautiful. Like his life might finally have something other than the music.

The song on the radio is a good one; Bazz taps out the drumline on the counter, watching Giselle and Bambietta move behind the counter like two dancers working out the choreography for different numbers. Everything is fluid and graceful, proof that the two of them have been working together long enough to be perfectly aware of one another, stepping just out of each other’s way. When he first came here when Nozarashi was still struggling to make it as a big act, he was struck then, and is now, by how well the two of them work together.

The women who work were at Giselle’s have taught him a lot of valuable lessons he might not have learned without them and certainly not on the road where faces blur together and memories are made one night and forgotten the next, disappearing under a haze of alcohol and celebration of another show. When Retsu left the band, for just a little while, Bazz thought he might have come to work here. To toss his sticks to the side and just let things be.

But as winter melts into spring, Nozarashi entered its new golden age, and he found himself only here when he had the time. During recordings, between interviews.

The women here have taught him the most important lesson of all: home can be a series of familiar faces that always light up when you walk through the door. Locations mean nothing compared to that unshakeable bond. It’s why he finds himself in the diner today.

When he offered to bring Grimmjow and Ulquiorra here, he was thinking maybe a week or two at the most; Nozarashi ended up on tour before he could do anything about that promise and now spring has come, warm days and sunlight spilling golden across the city streets outside as flowers nod sleepily in the cool breeze. He feels like he might have missed an opportunity because of such a thing but doesn’t mind so much; if the two of them are only ever meant to be his friends after all, then he can be grateful for that much. He can open his heart to them in that way without holding it against them that he wanted more once upon a time.

He understands their choice, of course. Understood it when Kenpachi barged onto the bus with his phone in hand to show everyone a picture of Rukia in her new Christmas dress, her faithful lion Kon wearing a red ribbon to match her. Though Bazz is fuzzy on the exact details, not in the mood to pursue such a topic, Hisana did not make it through the winter. December wiped out the last of her resistance, and Rukia came to stay with her new fathers.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra made the right choice, in the end, and Bazz hopes they know that.

Bambietta swivels their hips as one song bleeds into another, wiping down counters and checking the dishwasher before coming around to straighten up the diner itself. They were busy when Bazz first walked in but now there is a lull, something he’s grateful for.

“How are you holding up, babe?” Bambietta rests their elbow on his shoulder, dark brown eyes scanning him up and down as if trying to see into his soul.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they can pull off something like that. When he first walked through the door, soaked in rain water and lost, Bambietta was the one who sat him down with a cup of hot cocoa and offered to be an ear. “I’m good. They should be here soon.”

“I hope it all goes well for you.” Bambietta curls their fingers in the loose maroon of his hair; he didn’t have it in him to style the mohawk today. “You seem to be awfully fond of them.”

“They’re good friends.” It’s the truth, and the gentlest way to make sure Bambietta understands how he feels about all of this. Getting his hopes up is not on the menu today.

Of course, they’re far sharper than Bazz gives them enough credit for, nudging his temple with two fingers. “I know they are. We’re making sure everything is good and hot so we can get your food out as fast as possible to make it all as smooth for you as we can.”

“You’re the best,” Bazz tells them, and Bambietta beams at him.

“I know I am. You’re going to owe us for this, so make sure you recommend us in your next interview, you ingrate.” Bambietta kisses the side of his head and returns behind the counter, dancing just out of the way of Giselle who hurries past with something in her hands.

The diner is having a normal day, and the thought makes Bazz smile. Consistency is something he lacks in his life, not having the room for it with the life he leads and the strange demands that come with being as famous as he is. Interviews crop up out of nowhere, schedules need to be checked and changed, tour life happens. But the diner is always just the same when he comes back, a bright note and a welcome home after a long few months.

Tour even made him miss Ulquiorra’s birthday, but his present was on time just the same.

Behind him, the bell above the door jingles to alert everyone to customers, and he turns on his stool to see Grimmjow holding the door open for Ulquiorra. The sight makes Bazz’s chest feel light, a smile coming unbidden to his lips as he almost trips over his own feet to greet them. While he used to love going on tour and having all sorts of wacky adventures with Yumichika, he actually had something waiting for him when he got back. It shifted his perspective.

“Bazz, hey.” Grimmjow flashes him a lazily smile and a half-wave that ends with his arm curling around Ulquiorra's shoulder. The position has the diamond on his engagement ring glittering as it flashes through the sunlight, a ring made to match the one Ulquiorra wears. “Nice to see you.”

“You two look great.” They do; Grimmjow told him before he came home that spring was Ulquiorra’s favorite season because he would finally be warm again, and it shows.

Like the flowers that line the diner windows outside, Ulquiorra has bloomed; there is healthy color in his cheeks, his eyes are glittering, and he has on a t-shirt and loose jeans with ripped-out knees, looking so comfortable it makes Bazz grin despite himself.  _ There you are, _ he thinks, and clicks his tongue at the sight of paint splatters here and there on the denim. So the resident artist has already been hard at work this morning.

“It’s good to see you again.” Ulquiorra walks up to him and holds his arms out, and Bazz feels like an overexcited puppy as he hauls Ulquiorra up against his chest. “How was tour?”

“Fucking unbearable. Yumichika never sleeps and he insists I stay up with him if he’s going to be up at all.” Bazz wants to just stand in Ulquiorra’s arms for a while, breathe in the scent of paint and the ink of his alcohol markers that clings to these clothes. But he lets him go and almost dies when Grimmjow hugs him next. “Wow, you’d think I went off and died or something.”

Grimmjow scoffs in his ear. “We just missed hanging out with you. Also Yumi’s been driving you up the wall a lot, huh? Your tweets were starting to sound a little passive aggressive, too.”

“Oh, good. I’ll get reamed for that probably.” He’s careful not to say by whom, though, because he doesn’t know if Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are ready to talk about either of them.

“Nah, you’ll be good.” Grimmjow steps back to look him over and Bazz tries really hard not to grin at the attention. “You look beat to shit, though. Slacking off on your workouts? I’ll drag you to my gym and get your ass back in shape myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Aren’t you busy doing that for Starrk these days?” The sheer amount of drama surrounding the production of  _ Del Toro _ has been amusing to say the least.   


Of course, Grimmjow groans, scrubbing a hand furiously over his jaw. “No, we have to sit down if we’re going to talk about this. I can’t do this standing up. I’ll collapse from the stress.”

They take the booth in the corner and Ulquiorra sits with sunshine like a halo around his dark head, and he looks better than he has in months. Though he’s been quiet about what he’s done to help himself get better, Bazz knows he’s seeing a therapist and dutifully taking the anti-depressants prescribed to him. That he’s been sleeping better and creating more, not just getting through his work faster but filling the apartment with art pieces, setting some aside to give Bazz when he came home. The plan is to go pick them up after they eat, and maybe to spend just a little time together before Bazz goes back to his place.

“What is it?” Ulquiorra asks him, head cocked to the side. His hair is longer, too, Bazz notes, falling past his shoulders, brushing against his collarbones.

“You just look like everything you’ve been doing to get better is working.” He doesn’t know how to say it any more eloquently, but Ulquiorra smiles softly, so it must have been fine.

“We’ve been going on walks around the neighborhood ever since the weather warmed up and the sun’s doing him so  _ good, _ ” Grimmjow insists. “Might as well, since the place is nice.”

That image is unbearably sweet to Bazz, the two of them hand in hand as they walk along the sidewalks together, or maybe Grimmjow with an arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders to pull him close. Yeah, he has it bad. But he can control himself. “It’s so fucking good to hear that.”

“Hi, welcome to Giselle’s! I’m the lady herself.” Giselle all but dances over to their table, all bright blue eyes and a wide smile. “Ulquiorra, hi! It’s so nice to see you again, it’s been so long. Look at you, your hair’s longer now, it’s so pretty. It’s that nice shiny black like mine, huh?”

Ulquiorra’s smile is warm as he stretches out a hand to squeeze Giselle’s in greeting. “Giselle, hello. It’s nice to see you again, and thank you. You look lovely as well.”

“What a charming man.” Her gaze drifts to Grimmjow and she beams at him. “You must be Grimmjow! Bazz has mentioned you a few times, it’s good to finally get to put a face with the name. Oh, and your rings are so pretty! Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thanks!” Grimmjow perks up, gives the back of her hand a quick kiss that has her giggling, and Bazz feels so fucking  _ warm _ about all of this. “This is a great diner, I love places just like this so much. Ulquiorra said we’d have to come here some day after the last time he was here.”

“And now here you are.” Giselle hugs the trio of menus to her chest and then sets them on the table, passing one to each of them. “Here you are, just take your time and call when you’re ready. Can I take your drink orders while you’re looking?”

Within fifteen minutes, they have their drinks and their food orders put in, and Bazz finally clears his throat. “So,  _ Del Toro. _ Tell me all the juicy drama. Tabloids only have so much.”

“Did you hear about the kiss?” Grimmjow asks, groaning again when Bazz only shakes his head because no, none of the articles said anything about that. “God, I guess it really is still under wraps. So, like, they want Starrk to kiss his co-star guy. Granz? With the really complicated first name? I’m fucking. I’m dying. He’s going to really take the gay bait up to that level.”

Bazz can’t say he’s surprised, all things considered. “That fucking sucks. Please tell me he’s not being a weird unbearable straight dude and asking you how two men kiss.”

“Thank God for small favors, he’s not, but man, oh  _ man _ he told me about it and I just wanted to strangle him instead of nodding and smiling politely.” Murder glitters in Grimmjow’s eyes before he drops his head down on his folded arms with a whine, Ulquiorra patting him on the shoulder.

Daring, Bazz stretches out a hand to ruffle his hair. “It’ll be over soon, at least.”

“Yeah, there’s that. It can’t end fast enough.” Grimmjow lifts his head, chin propped on his arms as he gazes up at Bazz with an unreadable expression. “Do you think I could get away with killing him and dumping the body? I’d have to have a really good place, but I could try.”

“I don’t know,” Bazz admits, “but I’ll drive the getaway car. I’ll even line the trunk with plastic wrap or something so that there’s no evidence left behind. Just for you.”

“My prince charming.” Grimmjow swoons onto Ulquiorra, who laughs and tries to shove him off, and then Giselle brings out their food and it’s all they talk about for the rest of the visit.

Bazz pays, of course, and tips generously because Bambietta would kill him if he didn’t tip Giselle well for her services. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra lead the drive to their apartment, and it feels like a lifetime has passed since the last time Bazz stepped into the living room. Though it should have been harder to remember the outside— he left feeling like dog shit for making their lives harder, for seeing Ulquiorra upset and being at least partially the cause for it— the pale blue siding and the porch are familiar enough to him that it tugs at his heart.

He really needs to get this firmly under control. Not now. Not unless they want it.

His eyes stray over to the apartment connected to theirs, pausing at the sight of the FOR RENT sign fallen over in the grass. Maybe their kinky sex lives convinced their neighbor to move.

When Ulquiorra opens the front door for him, Bazz points to the sign as he steps inside. “Are you telling me the whips and chains finally got the space emptied out?”

“You’re the worst, but no. Family thing. There’s already someone new there, though, our landlord called to let us know so that we wouldn’t raise hell about all the noise they’ve made moving in.” Ulquiorra shrugs, then swings his arms wide with a broad smile on his face. “Look at the walls! I’ve been making use of the birthday present you sent me.”

The present was more like a bundle of presents because Bazz has money and keeping it all to himself is just a giant waste. The massive watercolor sets and the canvases barely made a dent in his paycheck but seeing the way Ulquiorra smiles for him, energy bubbling out of him as Bazz looks around the room and takes in the paintings is well worth the cost and more.

He sent him more watercolors and brushes for Christmas, not giving a shit if Ulquiorra’s birthday being in December was supposed to mean do it all at once. And now he’s glad he did, taking in the paintings hung up on the walls. Still lifes, animals, portraits.  _ Beautiful, Quiorra. _

“You really are a fucking artist,” he says, awed as he walks up to a painting of himself and Yumichika, a rendering of a photo he posted on Instagram. “Holy shit, this one is amazing.”

“It’s yours if you want it. The photo was lit so well, I just couldn’t help myself. I have more for you in the kitchen. Some of them are of just you.” Ulquiorra sounds so proud of himself and it makes Bazz feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy down to his core.

Unable to help himself, he takes quick steps forward and picks Ulquiorra up around his waist, spinning him around and then setting him back down on his feet. “You are fucking  _ amazing _ and I am so goddamn proud of you for coming this far. Good for you, man.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra beams up at him. “I love the watercolors. They’re so much fun to use.”

“You should see him when he really gets going. Splashes it all over himself, it’s so fucking cute.” Grimmjow arrives from the garage then, swinging the keys idly around a finger before he drops them in a bowl on the kitchen counter. “Hey, uh, if you don’t gotta jet out to some post-tour shit, you wanna chill around here for a bit? Maybe watch Ulquiorra paint.”

Ulquiorra looks up at him with hopeful eyes and really, they don’t even have to ask. Much less employ such will-crushing tactics. “Oh yeah, I’m free for a while. Gotta decompress after all that. Next time we play a big show in the city, you should come. I’ll get you seats.”

“We’d love to,” Grimmjow says. “Beer? I know it’s early but fuck it, we’re celebrating.”

_ Celebrating. We’re celebrating. _ “Hell yeah. Let’s toast to Quiorra’s amazing artwork and all the progress he’s clearly been making. You both look so happy now.”

“We are. It wasn’t an easy choice to make at the time and it sure hurt for a while after, but… It was the right choice to make and we stand by it.” Grimmjow brings both of them beers, and they clink the necks together. “So here’s to that, to all three of us being happy and doing what we need to do to be happy. No more tears, no more heartache.”

Ulquiorra nods, and when he looks up at Grimmjow, there are stars in his eyes. “And here’s to the wedding going off without a hitch this summer.”

“Summer, huh? You should let me DJ.” Bazz’s heart beats faster at the thought and  _ fuck, _ he wants to be there. He wants to support them, oh man, he’s never wanted something so bad as he wants to see them standing at the altar, becoming one.

Grimmjow winks at him. “Well, I  _ guess _ if we don’t get our first choice DJ, you’ll do.”

That’s basically an invitation, right? If he gets to be at their wedding, he’s going to cry. “I’ll make sure to keep my table dusted just in case you don’t get that call back.”

“You’re a prince, Bazz.” Ulquiorra mocks fainting, Grimmjow catching him in one arm.

Yeah. If Bazz only ever stays on as their friend, it’s worth it just to see the way they love one another so openly and freely. “I think I got that knight in shining armor vibe, actually.”

The sound of tires on the pavement has them all looking toward the window and Ulquiorra passes by him, peeking through the curtains before turning back around. “It looks like our new neighbors have finally arrived. The movers have been going at it for like two weeks now, getting the place set up for them. Should we go introduce ourselves now?”

“I feel like we’re gonna have a fifty-fifty shot of maybe making them hate us as soon as they realized they’re living next to two guys who are getting married.” Grimmjow shrugs, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “But like I’d rather them find out now than wait on it. You wanna come say hi, Bazz? Use your celebrity charm to make them like us.”

“You got it.” And maybe be extra muscle in case anything happens to go wrong.

The car parked in the driveway is a nice one, a newer model and clean, and Bazz hums in approval at the sight of it, hanging back and letting Grimmjow and Ulquiorra walk on ahead of him. At first he thinks maybe the new tenants have both gone inside, but the trunk of the car is open and a head of riotous orange hair pops out of his, attached to a rather handsome face.  _ Oh, nice. _ Be even better if the guys turns out to not be a homophobe.

“Hey, man, welcome to the neighborhood,” Grimmjow says, settling his arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders; Ulquiorra wraps an arm around Grimmjow’s waist, and even from the back they look so good together. Bazz is so ridiculously, stupidly happy for them. “You must be the new tenant.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that’s me.” The man flashes them a smile and walks around the car, holding his hand out. “Kurosaki Ichigo. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.” Grimmjow takes the hand Ichigo offers him, giving it a firm squeeze before Ulquiorra does the same. “This is my fiance, Ulquiorra Cifer. We’ve been living here a while now. Been a long time since we had a new face in the area.”

“I can see why. It’s a lovely place. Oh.” Ichigo leans around them slightly, looking up at Bazz. “Sorry, do you also live— Oh. You’re Bazz-B from. From Nozarashi. Uh, hello.”

Bazz waves lazily at him and takes a step forward, giving Ichigo a firm handshake of his own, admiring him up close because hey, Bazz isn’t  _ dead. _ “Nice to meet you, Kurosaki Ichigo. Nah, I don’t live here, but I’m friends with the happy couple.” He’s careful with the way he says it, watching Ichigo’s face. If it bothers him, he does a good job concealing it, and in his experience, people aren’t good at doing that over something like this.

“That’s awesome. Fiance, huh?” Ichigo tilts his head toward Grimmjow once more, and Grimmjow and Ulquiorra show him their matching rings. “Aww, man, that’s so cute. My princess would be all over something like that. She thinks that shit is just so precious.”

Princess. Maybe straight, then. A pity.

Ulquiorra cocks his head, his eyes drifting toward the building. “Oh, are you and your girlfriend both moving in? A couple. Now that’s novel. The last tenant lived here alone.”

“Maybe if we end up getting along, we can do couples’ nights or something. Like just a fair warning, she’ll show up at your door with baked goods when she gets in the mood to bake. Drove some of our old neighbors crazy, but hey, what can you do?” Ichigo shrugs, and Bazz hums thoughtfully; he gets good vibes from this guy. “I know some of them are bad but I’ll literally pay you to just thank her and take them. It makes her smile, y’know.”

Grimmjow chuckles softly and nods, clapping Ichigo on the shoulder. “Yeah, I get that. Why’d you move out here? I mean, great neighborhood, obviously. Any issues back home?”

“A few, but like, mostly my dad could just waltz over any time he wanted and I got tired of living there. We wanted a bigger place, and like.” Ichigo gestures toward the building as if that says it all, and maybe it does. These places are  _ nice. _ “It has stairs. And a backyard. And a front yard.”

“The backyards are pretty good for gardens, if your girlfriend likes to plant flowers,” Ulquiorra offers, and the way Ichigo smiles at the mention is sweet.

If he’s a bad dude, Bazz certainly isn’t picking up on it right away. He’s been in the business long enough to know when people are more trouble than they’re worth, but Ichigo seems like a genuinely all right dude and the thought makes him happy. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra should get to have nice, kind neighbors who don’t judge them too harshly.

“That’s great. Oh, wait, I think.” Ichigo squints and Bazz can see the curtain across the front window fluttering; Ichigo immediately waves his arms wildly, gesturing. “Hey, Orihime!”

Orihime. The name has all three of them tensing and Bazz bites down hard on his cheek to keep his mouth from falling open. There is  _ no fucking way. _

“Orihime,” Ulquiorra breathes, like the name itself is a shock to his system.

The front door of the apartment opens and Bazz thinks that he never asked Ulquiorra what Orihime looked like. He doesn’t even know if this is her. But he remembers Ulquiorra telling him that Orihime was sunshine and thinks  _ yeah, this is definitely her. _

The young woman who steps out into the yard to meet them is petite and beautiful, soft features and long autumn orange hair that glints beautifully beneath the warm spring sun. Her soft grey eyes are filled with warmth— And then she sees them and stops moving, her lips parting just a little, brow furrowed in obvious confusion. Realization dawns in her eyes.

“Ulquiorra.” She raises a hand to her mouth, then drops it and walks right up to him, bypassing Ichigo. “It’s really you. I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

Instead of answering immediately, Ulquiorra closes his eyes, and Bazz waits to see his reaction. If he’s going to break down at the sight of her, if he needs them.

But he surprises them all. He laughs, and opens his eyes, and takes one of Orihime’s hands in both of his. “I’m doing well, Orihime. It’s lovely to see you again. I think fate must have been determined that we see each other again. It looks like we’re going to be neighbors.”

Orihime looks startled initially, but then she smiles and presses her other hand to the back of Ulquiorra’s. “That makes me so happy! I’ve missed talking to you, Ulqui.” And he doesn’t flinch at the nickname, and Bazz is so fucking  _ proud _ of him. “We have so much to catch up on. Oh, your hair is so long now. And who’s this with you? Is that a  _ ring? _ ”

Bazz breathes a sigh of relief and throws an arm around Grimmjow’s shoulders because he can, taking in this picturesque little scene and Ulquiorra’s fond smiles.

_ Hello, halcyon days. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so we come to the close of _becoming mere silhouettes,_ the project i've been working on all month. the first time i ever did nanowrimo was in my freshman year of high school, and i barely scraped a full 50k before the holidays came up and everything was shot. to get to 200k is, to me, absolutely mindblowing in all ways.
> 
> the idea i initially had for nanowrimo was thrown out just before november and this came in its place. this story means a lot to me. i've only spent 30 days with it, but these characters mean so much to me and being able to tell their story feels genuinely good. it was a rollercoaster, and it ended in quite a lot of pain. i'm sorry for that. even though i knew it was coming before the rest of you did, i had no idea when i started that this was how things would end for these five.
> 
> i hope this epilogue can give all of you some hope for the future, and the sequel that i'm going to start hopefully tomorrow on the birthday of the lovely ulquiorra cifer. it's the best present i think i can give him.
> 
> i want to thank all of you who started at the beginning with me and read each day, those of you who commented on every or almost every chapter. those of you who joined partway through and stuck with it, catching up on the obscenely large word count to be at the same level with the rest of us. those of you who found something meaningful in this, and those of you who were just along for the good time. the support means so much to me. the warmth and gratitude i've experienced in this fandom is substantial as is, but having everyone behind me while i was working on this story means so much to me.
> 
> keep an eye out for the sequel, starting tomorrow on the first of december! the update period won't be nearly as frequent for this, but there will be so much there. i hope you all enjoy it. and just a fair note: anti-ichihime people please be advised that orihime is my beloved daughter and i will not suffer your slander of her lovely sunshine self. i hope you all join me for the ride of that one, too. i have so many ideas for it, and i hope you love even half as much as you loved this.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> dylan


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